South Park High School
by Just Another Writer Writing
Summary: The four boys and company are now in their senior year at South Park High School. However, growing up and becoming adults is much more zany and off the wall than they had previously hoped. Comedy, romance, and surprises lurk around every turn in the last year they'll spend together in everybody's favorite quiet, little, mountain town.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: The First Day (of the rest of our lives)**

Stan Marsh sat in his desk, his foot tapping impatiently as the final seconds of summer ticked away. If he was nervous, his face didn't show it. It remained as stoic as ever, even as his foot relayed the apprehension he felt due to the elephant in the room. It was the first day of senior year. After this, he would part ways with nearly everyone in the school.

He reminisced about the old days he spent with his best friends: Kyle, Kenny, and (yes, even) Cartman. The countless sleepovers, the bets, the dares, the pranks, and enough trouble caused between the four of them for a lifetime. The four of them were inseparable from the day they met long ago all the way through high school.

RING!

The bell shook Stan out of his trance and, out of habit, he glanced at the clock. Unfortunately, it was only the "hurry your ass to class" bell, so he resumed daydreaming until a familiar presence was in his midst.

"Hey Kyle," said Stan apathetically.

"Hey dude," Kyle responded. "How are you doing?"

"I don't know. I'm thinking back on all the cool stuff we've done. I guess it really never sunk in until now that this could be our last year that the crew is all together."

"Yeah, you're right. We've got to make this year count!" Kyle exclaimed.

"What's up my hippy bro and my Jewish bro?" Cartman had entered the classroom and did a quick scan. "By the way, where's my poor bro?"

"Kenny isn't here yet, but we're thinking about how to make this year awesome, fatass!" Kyle said.

"Oi, don't call me fat Kahl, ya cheeky bastard!" yelled Cartman.

"Cartman, watching Monty Python and the Holy Grail doesn't make you good at speaking in an English accent!" Stan responded.

"Yeah it does, Stan!"

"Will you all please shut the fuck up?" Clyde Donovan shouted from across the room. "We always have to put up with you all bitching at each other. Can't we just once have some peace and quiet at eight in the morning?"

Cartman, Stan, and Kyle were all rattled by this comment.

"Mind your own damn business, Clyde!" Cartman yelled.

Clyde responded by flipping the bird and grumbling to himself. Bebe Stevens tried to calm him down and reassure him, but that scarcely did anything.

"Anyway, where were we?" asked Kyle.

"You guys said you were trying to make this school year very kewl," said Cartman.

"Yeah, it's just that I was thinking about the good times and how this is our last year together. It'd really suck if it all went to waste," said Stan.

"I know what you mean. My mom and dad always talk about how great their senior year of high school was," Kyle responded.

"Yeah, my mom says that too," said Carman.

"Dude, that's probably because she slept with a ton of guys when she was in high school," laughed Stan.

"HEY!"

"No Stan, it was at least two tons of guys!" Kyle joked.

"HEY!"

Stan and Kyle laughed hysterically as Cartman raged.

In the middle of their laughter, Kenny walked into the classroom.

"Hey guys, what did I miss?"

"Ha ha... Stan and I are just laughing at how much of a slut Cartman's mom is!" Kyle said in between wheezes.

By now, Cartman was royally pissed. "You know what, screw you guys, I'm-"

RING!

The "get your ass to your seat" bell rang and everyone (including Cartman) quickly sat down.

"Good morning class! Welcome to your first class of senior year! I'm your American History teacher, Mr. Peeba. Please take a syllabus and pass the stack down..."

While their new history teacher passed out the syllabus, Stan was once again daydreaming. He smiled as he looked at his friends and knew that this school year was going to be the best yet.

**So, that was the first chapter of South Park High School. Leave a review and tell me what you think. Not all chapters will be focused on Stan and not all chapters will be this uneventful. I will post again soon!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: A Calc Related Risk**

Butters Stotch sat attentively at his desk while his calculus teacher, Mr. Phelps, laid out the lesson plan for the rest of the year. Despite the first day excitement, he seemed to be the only one paying attention. Every other student in the class was preoccupied with their own business as lunch time slowly approached. Stan, Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman were brainstorming ideas to make their senior year epic; Heidi and Wendy were getting a head start on the first homework set; Craig and the other boys were playing PUBG on their phones; and Bebe, Red, and Annie were discussing music among other topics.

None of this phased Mr. Phelps, however. He droned on, outlining the schedule while Butters neatly and quickly wrote out every word he said. Had he not been as excellent a student in math, Butters could have made a successful courtroom scribe.

Butters, despite his lack of street smarts, was exceptionally good in school. Being raised by two parents willing to ground him for less than excellent grades molded him into a straight A student. Unlike Heidi though, his grades were more a result of his intense work ethic and not some innate intellectual ability. Quite simply, he could will himself into studying for hours, even if it was an inefficient use of his time.

"Now, does anyone have any questions about the syllabus?"

All except Butters were oblivious to the question and Mr. Phelps took the silence as a collective 'no.' He happily made his way back to his desk and pulled out the novel _Jurassic Park_ by Michael Crichton.

"You can all talk quietly amongst yourselves for the next 15 minutes," he said hastily, quickly becoming immersed in his novel.

The class continued their chatter. After he put away his binder, Butters took the remaining free time to contemplate where he stood with his crush and all the time he had wasted so far.

The previous three years of high school he had been infatuated with Red. She was none the wiser to his feelings (or really any of his feelings as she rarely talked to him). However, as he saw her on the opposite side of the classroom, a strange feeling overcame him. He knew he had to tell her how he felt. He was about to walk over to her desk but stopped cold when he heard her speak.

"Yeah, Bebe. Kevin took me out for dinner last night and I know it sounds cliché, but I think I'm really falling for him."

Butters deflated like a balloon. All of the energy and passion that had filled him moments before had evaporated. He shrank down in his seat and was left with his own thoughts pin-balling through his mind for the rest of the hour.

_Oh hamburgers_, thought Butters. _Why did I wait so long to make my move?_

The bell rang for lunch and everyone else bolted from their seats. Butters sat in silence for a moment and then grabbed his books and left the classroom, a tear in his eye.

**Now we see a new plot thread introduced. More chapters (a mix of new plot lines and continuations of previously existing plot lines) to come. Most chapters from here on out will be more comedic. It's fairly hard to make this sort of exposition funny.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: L(a)unch Party**

Stan, Kyle, Cartman, Kenny, Butters, Craig, Tweek, Token, Jimmy, and Timmy sat around a lunch table in the cafeteria.

"We have a great idea to start senior year off right," said Stan.

"Oh, p-p-please do tell!" replied Jimmy.

"Well, we thought we should hold a house party!" exclaimed Kyle.

"Damn. That sounds hella cool," said Craig.

"Stop using 'hella' so much. What are you, a fucking boomer?"

"Shut up, Cartman. I can use 'hella' as much as I damn well please," retorted Craig, flipping him off.

"GAH! Who's invited and whose house are we going to?" asked Tweek.

"That's the one thing we haven't thought of yet. We need someone who has a kick ass house," answered Stan.

Everyone turned to Token.

"What? Don't look at me! I got grounded for two months the last time I had a party without telling my parents," he said in frustration.

"Ok, ok, we'll have to move to our next viable option," said Cartman. "Butters?"

"Whoa, what?" Butters had not been paying attention. He had been wallowing in self-pity from what Red said.

"C'mon dude! Pay attention!" said Stan. "We need someone to host a house party to start the year off right."

"Oh right... well, who would host it?"

"That's what we're trying to work out. Would you be able to host it, Butters?" asked Kyle.

"Well... I don't know fellas..."

"Butters, don't be a little bitch," chastised Cartman.

"It's just that I could be facing a whole month of grounding at least..."

"Dude, just take one for the team," said Craig.

"Yeah, all of us have had to carry our weight over the years!" agreed Kenny. "I had to die numerous times in 3rd and 4th grade for our stupid schemes!"

"GAH! And Craig and I had to start dating each other just because the town shipped us so much!" shouted Tweek.

"That's true, but I've carried the burden quite a bit too, guys!" said Butters. "I had to go on Maury with balls on my chin, I had to gain weight and get unprofessional liposuction from you guys, I got grounded because my VR self went on a rampage, I had to fake my death and dress up as Marjorine-"

"Oh, give me a fucking break! You act like all of those were bad!" shouted Cartman angrily. "You made friends with all those freaks on Maury and got to go to the largest putt-putt golf course in the world! That was the best thing that ever happened to you!"

"Y-yeah, B-B-Butters. I agree with Cartman on this one. G-g-grow a pair." Jimmy added.

"TIMMAH!" Timmy agreed.

"If helping out your friends isn't enough for you, think about what hosting this party would do to your sex appeal," Token said. "Any girl you want would be swooning over you..."

"Oh, son of a biscuit, I'll do it," Butters agreed reluctantly, being pushed over the edge by Token's comment.

"Sweet..." Cartman smirked.

"Okay, we need to find out how to host the greatest party ever!" cried Stan. "What do all the legendary parties in the movies have?"

"Hot tubs!" shouted Craig.

"My parents just got a new hot tub this summer," said Butters, a bit timidly. "So, I've got that covered." He gulped audibly.

"Hell yeah!" shouted Kenny.

"Sweet dude! Way to come up clutch!" replied Kyle, patting Butters on the back encouragingly.

"We'll also need a big ass speaker and a great playlist!" shouted Cartman. "If we have shitty music at the party, everyone will think we suck."

"OH NO! We can't have that!" cried Tweek, frantically drumming the table.

Butters sighed. "I have a speaker too..."

"Alright!" Token exclaimed.

"Sweet dude! Two for two!" Stan said.

"And the playlist?" asked Cartman, raising an eyebrow.

"It's okay, Cartman," Kyle said. "I'll take care of it."

"Sorry Kahl," said Cartman with a sigh, "but I don't think songs about dreidels should be played at our party."

"Fatass, just because I'm Jewish doesn't mean I listen to songs about dreidels!" exclaimed Kyle, visibly annoyed.

"HEY! I'm not fat, you stupid Jew!" yelled Cartman. "Besides, who's to say your taste in music doesn't suck balls?"

A voice chimed in from across the room.

"Damn it! Can you two shut the fuck up? I'm trying to have lunch with my girlfriend!" Clyde shouted.

"Clyde, calm down..." Bebe comforted him. "Take deep breaths and relax..."

"Damn, Clyde needs his girlfriend to be able to function socially? What a dickhead!" cried Cartman.

Everyone at the table laughed in agreement.

**Things are heating up! Just for the record, I try to make my stories follow the South Park writing format of using "buts" and "therefores" to construct plot lines. Please tell me what you think of how this writing choice is working out. More exciting stuff to come as the plot thickens...**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: An Inconvenient Truth**

"Wendy?"

"Yeah, Heidi?"

Wendy looked up from her textbook. She and Heidi had decided to study physics in the library during lunch. The rest of their friend group had been upset that they weren't sitting with them, but the two of them promised it would just be that one day.

"Is it just me, or has Bebe not been herself recently?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well..." Heidi leaned in closer. "It's like dating Clyde has stressed her out a ton. I mean, he always is losing his temper in public and she has to calm him down every time."

"Whoa, I guess you're right," said Wendy, thinking it over for a moment. "She also seems to be on edge whenever he's around."

"Yeah, it's like she's been walking on eggshells around him, she doesn't want to set him off..." Heidi trailed off as she saw Bebe enter the library, approach them, and wave.

"Hey Wendy. Hey Heidi." Bebe wore a weak smile as she spoke.

"Hey Bebe!" Wendy greeted. "How are you doing?"

"Oh, alright." Her face did a terrible job of concealing the truth.

"Are you sure?" asked Heidi.

"Yeah, I'm just fine..." Her voice wavered. It seemed more unsure than before.

"Well, come sit down with us!" Wendy invited. "We thought you were going to be in the lunchroom today."

"Well, I was... until..." Bebe broke down crying.

Wendy and Heidi immediately went over to comfort her. Bebe's tears became sobs.

"He had another outburst in the cafeteria at Kyle and Cartman! What am I going to do? I really like Clyde, but his behavior in public just pushes me over the edge sometimes... He just keeps making a scene..." Bebe wept. "He yells at people to shut up and he keeps losing his temper! It's like I'm always expected to be the one that comforts him... but... it just doesn't work."

"Don't worry Bebe! We're here for you," reassured Heidi.

"You can tell us anything! We'll listen to you," added Wendy.

"Th-thank you! You two are the best!" choked Bebe.

Bebe took a moment to gather herself. Then wiping the remaining tears from her eyes, she said, "I'm not going to be complacent anymore. I've already let him know privately about his behavior in public. He isn't going to change and I shouldn't expect him to."

"That's very true... you are your own person and so is he! If you two truly respect each other, then neither of you should try to change the other!" Heidi exclaimed.

"Yeah! And if his actions are causing you great emotional distress, you shouldn't have to deal with it!" said Wendy.

"Thanks girls! I know what I must do!" cried Bebe.

Wendy and Heidi looked at each other.

"Really? You don't mean..."

"Yes, even though I really like him..." Bebe sighed heavily. "I'm going to break up with Clyde."

**Another new element is added in... I should probably give a fair warning that not all threads will have their resolutions connect. I.e. the obvious outcome with this plot thread and a previous one will NOT happen. Why? This is a story about a year in a group of people's lives. This is not a story with two sole protagonists in the time framework of a single narrative; everyone shares the spotlight (more or less equally) over the course of a year, similar to how real life unfolds. In case you don't know what I'm referring to with which previous thread and the obvious outcome, then I'm glad I haven't spoiled what won't happen. Keep enjoying the story and leave a review if you'd like.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Practice Makes Perfect**

TWEET! The sound of a shrill whistle broke through the autumn sky.

"DAMN IT! Stan, that is a freshman level mistake! Read the defense before you throw it! There was a FUCKING wall of defenders!"

Mr. Garrison broke his clipboard over his knee. He had been hired as the South Park High Bulls football coach when he had been moved up to teaching high school English. He had already known the basics of coaching by then, learning from his late friend Chef back in the simpler years of his teaching career. However, the one thing he did not inherit from Chef was his composure when coaching.

"CARTMAN! You can bet your ass that if you flinch before the snap one more time, then you're not starting Friday!"

Despite his rough exterior as a coach, he was surprisingly good at fostering a supportive and hard working team culture. His players always bought into the system and he was regarded as one of the best coaches in the conference, consistently coaching his teams to the playoffs every year. Truth be told, he knew that once he got the elite talent for his team, they would have a solid chance at a state championship. His former 3rd and 4th grade classes, now emerging as seniors, were chock full of that type of talent. Even as far back as when he was teaching them, he could see their untapped potential. Stan Marsh had the intangibles of a pro quarterback; Cartman had the frame of a powerful offensive tackle; and Kyle, Token, and Kenny had the speed and the strength of a loaded wide receiver corps. He was even able to help Butters develop into a solid starting safety.

"We can do without the showboating, Craig! If you cost us 15 yards on Friday with another one of your stupid-ass unsportmanslike conduct penalties, you'll spend your Saturday here doing 300 push-ups!"

Mr. Garrison saw that his team was playing much more sloppily than usual. That was to be expected; it was the first day back to school after all. The players were always jumpy the first day back, slightly off setting all of the hard work put in during the three weeks of summer practice. It also didn't help that a small group of senior girls were watching practice and cheering from the bleachers, distracting Scott Malkinson.

"Malkinson! If you're distracted now, you sure as hell will be during the game! Do you think they'll watch you practice but not watch the game? Everyone will be watching on Friday and if you come in unfocused, you're going to get embarrassed in front of the whole damn city!"

He then turned his attention to the group of girls.

"And all of you bee-yotches better be leaving now! We have a game to win and we can't practice if you're out there distracting our players!"

The girls grumbled, flipped off Mr. Garrison, and left. He laughed.

"Ha ha, be gone thots!"

All of a sudden, Mr. Garrison saw his bespectacled assistant coach emerge from the athletic office and run out onto the sidelines.

"Mr. Garrison! I got the tapes of Orange County High for film study tonight!"

"Splendid! Thanks Mr. Mackey! We'll be able to pick them apart with ease on Friday once we find their tendencies on film!"

Mr. Garrison turned back to the team and blew his whistle.

TWEET!

"Everyone, stretch out and then huddle up!"

Once everyone had gathered, Mr. Garrison narrowed his eyes and began speaking.

"Okay, Bulls. I want to make something perfectly clear. We are NOT ready to play on Friday. There is still a ton of work that needs to be done. We were sloppy out there in practice today. We were making mental mistakes on the field. Offsides, false starts, unsportsmanlike conducts. Those penalties are avoidable. Don't jump into the neutral zone, don't move until the ball is snapped, and, for the love of God, don't prance around like a jack-ass when you make a big play. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Coach Garrison," came the unified reply.

"Louder! Like you mean it!"

"YES, COACH GARRISON!"

"There we go. And one more thing… Where in the FUCK is Clyde?! I saw him in my class today, but for some reason, he decided to skip practice!"

"I don't know," said Craig. "He said he had to meet up with someone before practice today… he made it sound like he'd be back soon."

"Probably needed to overdose on his anger medicine!" joked Cartman.

The entire team laughed.

"You mean, overdose on after school fun time with Bebe?" Token quipped.

The team howled with laughter.

"Okay Bulls, you need to stop this nonsense!" Mr. Macked scolded. "You are a team, m-kay? You need to stick together and support one another! No time for jokes about each other, m-kay?"

"Yes, Coach Mackey," the team said, solemnly.

"Okay, Bulls. Now, Coach Mackey got us tapes on Orange County High. So, after washing up, I want you all to watch film for a half hour and then you can leave." Mr. Garrison let a huge grin appear on his face. "Now, let's kick the shit out of them on Friday!"

"YEAH!" the team cheered as they left for the locker room.

**I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Leave a review if you wish! The next chapter will be out within a week!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6:** **Left In Stotches**

Stephen Stotch parked his red minivan outside his ordinary suburban home. He saw by the other vehicle in the driveway that his wife, Linda Stotch, had already gotten back from work. He walked up to the door, unlocked it, and entered.

"Good afternoon, Linda!" Stephen said jovially, hanging his jacket on the coat hanger.

"Stephen!" greeted Linda, embracing him. "How was your day at work?"

"Oh, the usual. How about you?"

"Just fine, another typical day of engineering." Linda said, giving a small chuckle. She pecked him on the cheek.

"Is Butters back from football practice yet?" Stephen asked.

"Not yet... today is Tape Tuesday, so I think he'll have to stay there a while watching film..." Linda trailed off, taking a sip of tea.

"That's probably for the best… I wanted to talk to you about him." Stephen sighed. "I'm getting a little worried about how he's doing socially with the girls in his grade."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's his senior year of high school and he hasn't dated anybody since the fourth grade! I'm starting to wonder if he's… you know..."

"Stephen! Don't say it like that!"

"What?" asked Stephen incredulously. "I'm not saying it's a problem if he's gay. In fact, if the reason why he hasn't dated any girls was because he's gay, that would be great! It's just that... If he's not gay, then I'm worried about him."

"Stephen, there's no reason to be worried!" Linda exclaimed. "Children now date much later than they have before. A cultural shift has happened; there's a larger focus on careers than dating. It's perfectly normal for a boy at Butters' age to not have dated yet!"

"Oh, really?" Stephen asked, a little skeptical. "Butters always tells me about his friends and their relationships. The only one of his friends who hasn't dated in high school is Eric Cartman!"

"Okay, okay! You know what? Let's ask Butters about this when he gets back."

No sooner had the words left Linda's mouth than the front door opened up, revealing their exhausted, yet chipper, son.

"Hey Mom! Hey Dad!" Butters wore a tired smile.

"Hey, bud. How was your first day of school?" Stephen asked, ruffling his hair.

"School went okay. It was just the general syllabus stuff." Butters hung up his coat.

"How about practice?"

"Everyone was playing sloppy, Garrison yelled like heck at us, and Clyde didn't show up."

"Clyde didn't show up?" asked Linda.

"Yeah, no one knows why. Everyone on the team was joking that it was because he went to see his girlfriend, Bebe." Butters replied calmly, untying his shoes.

Stephen and Linda made eye contact, knowing that they had just been given the perfect chance to segway. They looked back at their son.

"You're never going to skip practice to see your girlfriend, right Butters?" joked Stephen.

"Stephen!" Linda glared.

"No, I'm not going to do that. You know I don't have a g-girlfriend, Dad," Butters said, nervously twiddling his thumbs.

"Well Butters," said Linda, "is there anybody in school you think is cute?"

"No!" Butters exclaimed hurriedly, blushing.

"Butters, if you're telling us lies, you'll be grounded..." Stephen threatened.

Butters gulped. "Oh hamburgers! Yes! I like this one g-girl in my class…"

"Well, does this mystery girl have a name?" Linda asked, putting a reassuring hand on Butters' shoulder.

"Oh, son of a biscuit! It doesn't matter anyway… she's gone. I found out today that she's dating another guy from our school and she really likes him! There's nothing I can do!"

"Oh, Butters, I'm sorry," Stephen apologized. "There's nothing you can do about these kinds of situations. Sometimes, you'll get your heart broken and you have to move on. But, one day, you'll find the person who makes your dreams come true…" Stephen smiled and looked at Linda, who promptly blushed.

"Your father's right, Butters." Linda said. "I'm sure there's someone who is out there waiting for you."

"Really?" asked Butters. "I mean, Eric told me the other day that the world rejected us. He said love wasn't made for people like us. I think that he called us, 'inner cells' or 'cellins' or something."

"Son, you shouldn't always believe what comes out of your friend's mouth," warned Stephen. "But, if you want, I can give you some romantic advice."

"Really? Oh boy!"

"I'll let you two have your little father-son talk!" exclaimed Linda, happy that Butters was feeling better. She walked out the door and sat on the porch, sipping her cup of tea.

Stephen sat down on the couch and motioned for Butters to sit opposite of him. He clasped his hands and looked at Butters.

"So Butters, how long have you liked this girl?"

"For all of high school, sir."

"And you never said anything?!"

Butters looked down at his feet. "No, sir."

"Then why are you so upset?" Stephen asked. "It's clear to me that she never knew how you felt. It's not like she hurt you intentionally by dating someone. You need to communicate your feelings. I know it's hard to face rejection, but you've got to take risks. I had to take risks when I told your mother how I felt about her and we've been together ever since."

"Wow, really?"

"Of course, son. Do you understand what you should try to do from now on?"

"Yeah! Thanks Dad!"

"Well, run along Butters! You've got a lot of homework you need to do tonight!"

Butters went off to his room to work on his homework as Linda walked back into the house, a grin on her face.

"How was your talk with him?"

"I'd say it went very well," Stephen said, happily. "I mean, I understand why he hasn't had a girlfriend yet. The problem was expressing his feelings, not a lack of social skills. Now, he understands the importance of communication."

Stephen then turned to the window, opened it, and leaned out of it. "THERE CAN'T POSSIBLY BE A CHANCE BUTTERS MISUNDERSTANDS MY ADVICE!"

He closed the window and returned to his seat, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

"That's great!" Linda exclaimed. She walked to the kitchen sink to rinse out her cup.

Stephen sat back in his chair, enjoying the moment of rest. _All in a day's work_, he thought, resting in his chair.

**Surely, nothing can go wrong with Stephen's advice? We'll find out soon. In the meantime, we'll continue to bounce around between plot threads and point of views. If you have any praises or constructive criticism, please leave a review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Everybody Hurts… Sometimes**

Clyde walked through the desolate school basement in the early hours. All the classrooms were locked, the halls were dark, and only the soft hum of the boiler could be heard. It was perfect for his current state of mind, wallowing in his own sorrow. He desperately needed some alone time.

He popped in his airpods and selected a break up playlist off of Spotify to mirror his emotions. "Eyes Without a Face" by Billy Idol began playing while he paced the hallways.

_I'm all out of hope_

_One more bad dream... could bring a fall?_

He couldn't sleep the night before, being too much of an emotional wreck. Ever since Bebe had left him, it felt like his entire world had shattered. He wasn't even able to drive home after she had told him that they were done. Before the day before, he thought of a broken heart as a mere hyperbole. Now, he knew the truth.

He stopped in the bathroom to wash his face and looked in the mirror. His cheeks were puffy and red, stained with tears. There was no conceivable way he could pull himself together by the time American History began. True, no one thought of him as the cool and collected type, so his behavior wouldn't seem out of the ordinary and he just could slip by. But, he was certain his other classmates would be able to piece together the full story by then, so it was too much of a risk. He splashed water onto his face and gently dried it.

Walking out of the bathroom, he bumped into a hallway patrolling Mr. Mackey.

"Clyde Donovan! What are you doing here this early in the morning?"

"Just… walking around, Mr. Mackey. You know, enjoying the peace and quiet." Clyde wiped his face with his sleeve.

"Okay, mister. Now tell me, why weren't you at practice yesterday?"

Clyde shuddered. "I don't want to talk about it." His eyes brimmed with tears.

Mr. Mackey softened a bit, noticing the tears. "Have you been... crying?"

"NO! Please… just leave me alone!"

"Clyde, I can help you; it's my job. Just talk to me about what's causing you pain."

"I-I think it'll hurt me more to talk about it…" Clyde began weeping.

"There, there, Clyde." Mackey gave him a reassuring pat on the back. "Let's head over to my office."

Clyde reluctantly took a seat on the cushioned armchair in front of Mackey's desk, with tears still raining from his eyes.

"Now, tell me all about what happened," Mackey said with his hand on his chin.

"It'll hurt too much to remember…"

"Now Clyde, the only way for you to feel better is to tell me what happened."

"You know that's just some psychology bullshit right there…"

"You might think that, but, I assure you, it's not-"

"One hundred percent-"

"Clyde-"

"Grade A-"

"Clyde-"

"Fucking bullshit!" Clyde spat out.

"Now damn it!" Mackey yelled. "I know you doubt this will work, but can you just give it a shot? What's the worst thing that can happen?"

"I'll be reminded of the break up!" Clyde shouted in desperation. "There, I said it! I just got my heart crushed by the girl of my dreams!"

Mackey sat quietly, taking in all of the information. Clyde, noticing that Mackey was not making any attempt to say anything, decided to continue.

"Before I dated Bebe, I was non-committal. I flirted with every girl I saw and only cared about the physical side of relationships. When I started dating her, I realized that my idea of love was all wrong. She showed me what it truly meant to care about someone."

Clyde choked up. "But, I screwed up."

Mackey raised an eyebrow.

Clyde took the cue. "You see, I have an issue with controlling myself. I would often go into fits of anger publicly, usually humiliating her. I should've known it would catch up to me. Yesterday, she told me that we needed to talk after school. Then, she… she..." He put his head in his hands as he broke down into silent tears once more.

Mackey put his arm around Clyde. "Don't worry about it. Everyone makes mistakes. You don't need to be so hard on yourself. You can get better; you can control your anger."

"How?"

"Well, to start, how about I meet you once a week during lunch so we can talk all about it?"

"Sounds good, Mr. Mackey." Clyde sighed. "I guess you were right, I feel a lot better now that I've talked to you. You won't tell Coach Garrison about this, will you?"

"Hell no! Garrison would beat your ass if he knew the reason you missed practice! I'll just tell him that you took a personal day and you resolved everything with me."

Clyde smiled. "Thanks, Mr. Mackey. It means a lot."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: You Can't Tuna Fish**

"Psst, Kyle!" Bebe tapped Kyle's left shoulder, holding a scrap of paper. "Pass this note to Kevin! It's from Red!"

"You got it, Bebe." Kyle took the note and handed it to Stan, telling him the same instructions.

"Pass this down to Kevin; it's a note from Red!"

"Okay, dude."

Kyle turned his attention once again to Mrs. Visans, the concert band teacher. She was droning on once again about tuning. As much as Kyle recognized the importance of tuning his saxophone, it seemed like a waste of time to spend 20 minutes of the hour solely on that. Letting his eyes wander, he scanned the class. On one side of him, he saw Cartman, Craig, and the other trumpets scarcely concealing the game of poker they were playing. On another, he noticed Tweek and Clyde were laughing amongst the other percussionists, pretending to tune the marimba. To his right, he saw Butters staring intently at the note to Kevin as Annie told him to pass it on. Kyle was just about to drift off when Mrs. Visans' conducting baton smacked her stand.

WHAP! WHAP!

"No, no! Come on, flutes! You need to hear Heidi play Concert A and tune to her. Listen to her sound and then try to match it. Once more!"

Kyle sunk back in his chair. "Man, tuning sucks!"

"Yeah, I'll say!" Stan agreed. "Why do we spend 20 minutes each class tuning? It's a waste of time!"

"Yeah, dude!" Kyle responded. "It just turns into tuning a single instrument and it wastes everyone's time."

"Guys!" A voice came from behind them.

"Yeah, Kenny?" Stan asked.

"We should plan our awesome party right now instead of wasting time with this random tuning bullshit."

"Okay, we got to get Butters in on this though," replied Kyle. "After all, he's the one that'll be hosting."

"Wait! Hold up!" Cartman shouted from behind them. "Don't tell me you're going to plan the party without me!"

He scooted his chair into Stan and Kyle's row, abandoning his cards and his winnings back with the other trumpets.

"Cartman! I get to take your money since you left!" Craig yelled.

"Whatever, I don't fucking care!" shouted Cartman, not even taking a second glance at Craig. "So, what do we have left to plan?"

"Well, quite a lot actually," started Stan, "but we have to bring Butters over here before we start." He turned to the end of the row where the clarinets sat. "Butters, come over here!"

Stan waved at him and motioned him over. Butters started to get up, but stopped himself and stayed in his seat.

"No thank you, fellas! I need to stay here so I don't get in trouble!"

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Oh, brother," he muttered.

"Just come over here!" beckoned Stan. "We have to plan the party!"

"Oh, hamburgers!" Butters started to walk over to where his friends had congregated when a hand reached out to stop him.

"Butters, stay in your seat! It's our turn to tune next!" Annie pleaded.

"Oh, okay Annie…" Butters went back to the chair and the guys groaned in frustration.

"Oh come on!" shouted Kyle.

"That's fucking weak, bro!" agreed Cartman.

"Butters! For the love of God, stand up for yourself! Don't just let everyone walk all over you!" shouted Stan.

"But, aren't you fellas telling me what to do right now?" Butters asked.

Cartman rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but that's different, you douchebag! Now you get your ass over here right now or I'll beat the crap out of you!"

WHAP! WHAP! All the noise in the room immediately dissipated.

"BOYS! Enough! We are trying to tune so please be quiet!"

"Yes, Mrs. Visans…" they all said in unison.

Kenny and Cartman went back to their seats and sat in boredom while the flutes continued to struggle with tuning Concert A. Kyle let out a sigh and looked at the floor, counting the floor tiles. He became fascinated with the intricate pattern on the floor and tried to optimize a method to count them before beginning his numbering. He had gotten to over a hundred when the familiar voice on his left interrupted his careful counting.

"You're counting the floor tiles?" Bebe asked.

"Yeah," said Kyle. "I think I found the best way to count them efficiently enough to not take forever, but still spend enough time that I don't finish before tuning is over."

Bebe smiled, smugly. "So, you don't want me to tell you how many there are?"

"Bebe, if you do that, I will make sure as section leader that you don't get first part on any of the music for the rest of the semester," Kyle joked.

Bebe laughed. "Fine, I won't tell you. Just tell me what you get when you're done so we can compare it with what I got last year."

"Sounds good!" He smiled and paused for a second. "But... I think I'll put this on hold for the time being. Talking to you is far more fun than counting tiles or waiting for Mrs. Visans to stop tuning."

"Oh, is that so?" Bebe asked with a bit of sarcasm.

"Yeah, I'm not sure where it ranks with watching paint dry though."

The two of them laughed. Kyle was about to continue talking when he was interrupted by Mrs. Visans.

"Splendid, flutes! Okay, now everyone, let's all play Concert A!"

Kyle gave Stan and Bebe each a knowing look as if to acknowledge how long and dreadful the tuning process was. They stifled their laughter as the band played in unison, albeit, slightly sharp.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: Public Address**

"Okay, quiet down class!" called out Mr. Phelps. "The morning announcements will be starting soon!"

The majority of the class groaned.

"Announcements are hella boring!" whined Craig. "What a waste of time!"

"Shut up, Craig!" yelled Red.

"You only like the announcements because Kevin reads them!" retorted Craig.

"So what if that's true?" asked Red. "Kevin has class, wit, and straight teeth, unlike your dumb ass!"

Craig flipped her off without a second thought.

Butters tried his best to intervene. "Hey, hey, come on fellers! Let's try to get along. Craig, you can stop verbally attacking Red, okay?"

Craig narrowed his eyes. "I call it like I see it."

"Quiet, class!" shouted Mr. Phelps. "The announcements have started!"

The whirring noise of the PA system filled the classroom.

"Good morning, South Park High! Welcome to the second day of the school year! I am your morning announcement host, Kevin Stoley!"

Red beamed from ear to ear.

Craig rolled his eyes. "I. Call. It. Like. I. See. It," he whispered, emphasizing each word.

"Piss off, Craig!" yelled Bebe.

The PA continued. "Up first, we have a reminder from Principal Victoria. Students, please do not park your cars in the parking lots of nearby businesses to avoid buying a parking pass. This is a form of loitering and repeated offences will get you ticketed."

"The fuck is this?!" angrily shouted Cartman. "I'm not having my mom pay 50 bucks to buy me a shitty parking spot at the school!"

"That's a waste of money!" cried a bewildered Kenny. "Screw it! I'm walking to school every day!"

"Shh!" hushed Mr. Phelps. "Now, stay quiet! I have to run to the office to make copies!"

As Mr. Phelps walked out, the PA blared on. "Up next, we have a special message from Mr. Mackey. He wants all the students to know that there will be our annual rivalry blood drive with North Park High School at the end of next month. He wanted me to specifically mention that the school that wins the blood drive has also won the game 9 times over the last 10 years!"

"Stupid North Park…" muttered Stan.

"Don't worry dude, we'll kick their ass this year!" Kyle reassured him. "Their winning streak will be snapped!"

Kevin continued with the announcements. "Last, but not least, we are pleased to bring you a special announcement. South Park High School will be hosting a school-wide talent show! Auditions will be all throughout next week; just stop by the choir room with your act!"

"WHAT?" Butters shouted, as if questioning his ears. "A talent show? Yippee!"

Everyone immediately looked over at him and he blushed slightly in embarrassment.

"I mean, uh… a talent show… neato."

Cartman rolled his eyes. "Butters, why are you so excited to be a part of that gay ass talent show?"

Butters sweat nervously. "W-w-well," he stammered, "I was thinking-"

"Leave him alone, fat ass!" Kyle protested. "Why do you always have to rip on him?"

"EH! I'm not fat, you stupid Jew!" yelled Cartman. Upon saying this, he softened a bit, and became apologetic. "That was uncalled for; I went too far. I'm sorry I called you a Jew, Kahl."

"Dumb ass! I am a Jew!" Kyle retorted. "It's not an insult, you bigot!"

Cartman was irate. "Hey, I'm apologizing to you, dick breath!"

"Oh hamburgers, now just wait a second, fellas…" Butters said, trying and failing to calm the erupting tempest.

Kyle flared. "No you're just ripping on me for being Jewish once again!"

"No, I'm not, Kahl!" roared Cartman, seething with anger.

Craig was enjoying every second of it. "This is getting juicy…"

Butters gulped and continued his meager attempts to douse the flames. "Settle down Eric…"

"Cartman, _The Passion of the Christ_ came out over 15 years ago!" Kyle yelled. "Stop using the film to justify your twisted views and get the hell over it!"

"Age is just a number! _The Passion_ is still a masterpiece so don't you dare criticize it!"

Heidi leaned over to Wendy. "I can't believe they've been arguing about this for the past 15 years!"

Wendy rolled her eyes. "That's what happens when you argue with Cartman. It's best just not to take the bait whenever he begins his racist rants."

"Oh, brother!" Kyle shouted, exasperated. "Don't give me that shit! You use the film as a crutch to hide the fact that you're a fat, racist piece of shit!"

"Shut the fuck up, Kahl! At least my mom isn't a fat, Jewish bitch!"

Suddenly, a yell came from the other side of the room.

"GUYS!" shouted Clyde. The entire class went silent and turned to look at him, waiting with bated breath for his next outburst. Clyde hesitated for a moment and calmed himself down. "I would appreciate it if you guys stopped ripping on each other…"

Everyone let out a collective sigh from the quick diffusion and Bebe smiled. The entire class was admittedly impressed at his new found ability to control himself.

At that moment, Mr. Phelps walked back into the room. Sensing the unnerving calm in the room, he chuckled. "Okay, what did I miss?"

"Nothing, Mr. Phelps. Just listening to the announcements…" Craig said.

"Oh that's good-"

"... But Kevin is still a weeb." Craig finished.

"You dick." Red spat at him.

Craig flipped the bird at her once again. "I call it like I see it."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: Girls Just Wanna Have**** Lunch**

Wendy plopped her lunch tray onto the wooden cafeteria table in front of her. Her friends were already there by the time she had arrived.

"Hey, Wendy," they all greeted.

"Hey girls," she said, letting out a sigh. "Phew! The lunch line was quite long today. So, what's up?"

"There's going to be a party this weekend at Butters' house," Bebe answered, excitedly. "The boys just announced it."

"Oh," Wendy replied, a little disappointed. "I mean, that sounds fun and all, but isn't this a fairly normal occurrence?"

"What do you mean?" asked Red.

"Well, it's just another house party. It doesn't seem all that special to me."

"No, no," Annie corrected. "This time the boys said it was going to be the greatest house party of all time."

Wendy rolled her eyes. "Right… That's what they said when they had the party at Craig's last year. Everyone was like, 'oh, you shouldn't miss this' and 'this will be the most fun night ever.' I'll admit the party was fun and I enjoyed it, but I'd be lying if I said it was anywhere close to how it was built up."

"That's true, Wendy… but I just have the feeling it will be different this time," said Nichole. "All the boys are really putting in their all to plan it. I mean, the last two days in Calculus, Stan and Kyle have done nothing but plan it out."

"Good point, but has anyone really paid attention to Mr. Phelps the past two days?" Wendy joked.

The group burst out laughing.

"His lecture today was about as exciting as watching paint dry," Heidi added. "Actually, that might be doing a disservice to paint!"

The girls laughed whole-heartedly again.

"At least we're learning something in that class though!" Bebe objected. "It's not like in band when Mrs. Visans is forcing everyone to listen to the flutes tune for half an hour!"

The group laughed even more.

"I can assure you that's much less boring when you're the one who's forced to play for 30 minutes straight," laughed Heidi. "It becomes more frustrating at that point."

"I can only imagine," said Annie. "As much as a clarinet needs to be tuned, Mrs. Visans hardly ever tunes us."

"That's why you should be a saxophone!" exclaimed Bebe. "You don't really need to be tuned and you never get tuned! Plus, the saxophones are the coolest section in the band!"

"That's objectively false," replied Jenny. "The trumpets are definitely the coolest!"

"What makes you say that?" asked Bebe, defensively.

"Did you see us today?" Jenny asked. "We just played poker the entire time the flutes tuned!"

"Oh come on!" interjected Wendy. "That's not cool; that's just tacky!"

"Yeah," agreed Nichole. "That's the epitome of why the trumpets are the loudest and most obnoxious section in the entire band. There's no leadership there at all! It also doesn't help that Cartman is a trumpet!"

"It just goes to show that the saxophones are the coolest in the band!" Bebe exclaimed, triumphantly. "Point invalidated, Jenny."

Jenny crossed her arms defiantly. "Hmph!"

"Hold on just a minute, Bebe," interrupted Red. "We agree that the trumpets are contenders for possibly the worst section in the band, but what makes your saxophones so great?"

"Well, it starts with the people. Kyle and Stan are in the section, which is a huge positive since they make band fun. The leadership in our section is top notch, as well…"

"The clarinets are just as good!" argued Annie. "We have Butters and Kevin!"

"What? No way!" Bebe protested. "No offense to Red, Butters, or Kevin; but on what planet are those two cooler than Stan and Kyle?"

"Yeah," Wendy agreed. "My obvious bias aside, I think Stan and Kyle are probably the coolest guys at our school."

"Well, I meant from more than just a cool factor," Annie explained. "You see, Butters is just a really friendly guy with a heart of gold and Kevin is a musical genius who always goes out of his way to help others."

"It's true!" Red concurred.

"I guess I never thought of that before. Your section does have some high quality people… but I still think the saxophones are the best section!" Bebe exclaimed.

"I would debate with you and say my trombone section is better, but, it's definitely not," said Wendy. "It's good, just not quite at that level."

"Same with my tuba section," agreed Lola.

The constant chatter evaporated into quiet as the girls focused on finishing their lunches before their next class began.

Heidi turned to Nichole and whispered. "Our flute section is probably better than the saxophones, but there's no way I'd say that to Bebe's face."

Nichole took a bite out of her sandwich. "Understandable."

Wendy looked over at Bebe and Bebe gave her a knowing look back, as if they could read each other's mind. Wendy was the first to break the tension.

"How are things going today with.. well, you know…"

"Surprisingly well," answered Bebe. "I mean, yeah, I still miss him, but it was better for both of us to split and I don't regret it."

"That's great. Do you know how he is holding up so far?"

"Well, he cried quite a lot yesterday." Noticing the worried look on Wendy's face, Bebe hastily added, "Not that I blame him. He seems to be doing a lot better today though. Clyde seemed like his old self today, so either he's getting through it or he's doing a really good job at masking it."

Wendy nodded with a slight smile. "He seems much more even tempered today, that's for sure."

"Yeah," Bebe sighed, happily. "I've just got a feeling that things are going to turn out okay… I'm finally excited for what the future holds."

The bell rang. Like clockwork, the girls got out of their seats, mixed with the other students, and chatted among themselves as they all filed out to class.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: Lying To Yourself**

"No guys, I'm seriously! The moon landing was a hoax." Eric Cartman spoke with genuine conviction. The majority of the classroom ignored him while they waited for English to begin.

Craig rolled his eyes. "Cartman, I don't understand how you can orchestrate convoluted plans that can result in the death of someone's parents and their subsequent humiliation but still not have the brainpower to debunk shit like that on Snopes."

"Snopes is just a website run by the government!" Cartman yelled frantically. "They're trying to cover it all up! Don't let your mind be polluted by their lies!"

Craig sighed. "Okay, fatass. Let me ask you some questions. Why did the government fake the moon landing?"

"Easy, scrotum brain. They were trying to beat the Russians to the moon."

"Alright," Craig started, "so you admit that the United States and the Russians were enemies at this time?"

"Of course dude, that's like 5th grade history!"

"So… if one of them did something very sketchy or unethical, the other would call them out, right?"

Cartman crossed his arms. "Well, duh asswipe!"

"So, suppose the moon landing was faked-"

"Which it is."

"_Suppose_ the moon landing was faked." Craig paused in case Cartman interrupted him again. "Now, you said there was a lot of evidence that the photos and videos taken were clearly faked and that anyone with half a brain should see the contradictions, right?"

Cartman didn't hesitate. "Yeah, of course."

"But, the Soviet Union never disputed any of the claims made by the United States. So, if this evidence is so obvious and the Russians would be willing to expose the United States for lying to the world, why didn't they ever dispute the fact that we landed on the moon?"

Cartman thought about it for a while, becoming more and more frustrated as he did. Finally, he let out a burst of anger.

"You know what? You suck, Craig! Just like your terrible party last year!"

Craig groaned. "I swear, to have a surprisingly gifted mind and letting it be tainted by conspiracy theories, stupidity, and bigotry. If only it had a different owner..."

"Fuck off, Craig! Go make out with Tweek!"

Tweek sprung to life hearing his name. "GAH! What? No, no, I don't want to make out with you, Craig! I swear! I'm not into you!"

Craig put his head in his hands and rubbed his temples. "First of all, that was a fake relationship, Cartman! It was literally fan art! Secondly, that happened nearly 8 years ago! Get the hell over it!"

Seeing that he had made Craig upset, Cartman kept prying at him with glee. "Oh, really Craig? I'm sorry, my bad, bro." He took out a stack of papers with suggestive images drawn on them. "I guess I shouldn't show you my collection of Creek fan art I drew!"

"Oh, son of a bitch," Craig got out of his seat and started to walk out of the classroom.

At that moment, Mr. Garrison returned with his afternoon snack from the vending machine.

"Craig, where the hell are you going, mister?"

"I don't know, I don't care, and I've got a gift for Cartman."

He flashed the double birds at Cartman and left. Mr. Garrison was in fits.

"Craig! Craig! Get back here!" Mr. Garrison left his class once more to chase after Craig.

"Sweet…" Cartman said.

"Damn dude, why do we hang out with you again?" Stan asked.

"His mom's cooking?" suggested Kyle.

"Having someone to rip on?" guessed Kenny.

Cartman took a deep breath and sighed. "Because deep down, you guys actually enjoy having me around. You know that beneath my rough exterior, I really do love you guys as my friends. You give me a chance even though I have many imperfections, such as my laziness, gluttony, antisemitism, racism, sexism, greed…"

Stan shuddered at this thought. "Holy shit, is Cartman actually right about this?"

"Oh! I think you reminded me what it was!" Kyle exclaimed. "Cartman sometimes ends up being right about things."

"You mean, even though he's wrong a lot?" asked Kenny.

"Yeah, he may be wrong quite a bit, but, he is right part of the time," Kyle replied.

"Yeah, dude! You could even say, in sparse moments, he's also somewhat tolerable in small doses!" said Stan, laughing nervously. "Phew! For a second, I thought we actually liked having him around."

Cartman stood up in protest. "Oh come on, guys! Really? You actually are blind! If you guys hated me all of this time, then you would've ditched me long ago. Look at yourselves! You guys always talk about how much you hate me, but here you are! No matter how many times I rip on you or you rip on me or I say, 'screw you guys, I'm going home,' we still end up together. We joke, we hang out, we go on crazy adventures! Hell, we've even saved each others' lives several times! It's always been the four of us! The four of us against the world! If we weren't friends, then we'd probably be the most tight-knit foursome that's ever existed! Not even the Beatles could say that they grew up together like we had! But, here's the thing. I can actually man up, show vulnerability for once, and admit to you guys that you're my friends, but, for some reason, you refuse to say the same! If you want to lie to yourselves and say, 'oh, we're not friends with Cartman,' then go right ahead. But, just know that you're only kidding yourselves because your actions speak louder than words!"

Cartman walked to the door way and took one last look back.

"Screw you guys, I'm going to the bathroom!"

He shuffled out of the classroom while Stan, Kyle, and Kenny sat in shock at his speech. The rest of the class was completely silent, having seen the interaction unfold.

"Damn," said Clyde, watching from afar. "You guys really did it this time…"

"Holy shit, was Cartman right again?" Stan asked.

Kyle could scarcely speak. "I think… he was."

"Should we tell him that he's right?" asked Kenny.

"Oh, hell no. I don't want to give him the satisfaction of being right," responded Kyle. "Besides, he'll forget about this by the time he gets back from the bathroom and just be the same old Cartman again."

"Good, let's definitely keep this between us…" agreed Stan.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: Mirroring**

"Okay, class!" announced Mr. Garrison. "Since you all have your copies of _Pride and Prejudice_ and I don't have anything else planned, you can get a head start on your reading!"

Much too tired to read, Annie gazed across the room at the blond boy with the floppy hair. He was fixed intently on his book, taking notes as he went. She smiled sadly. Here Butters was, reading his book, seemingly without a care in the world and there she was, struggling to vocalize her inner feelings. She wasn't even brave enough to tell her friends about her affection for him.

Rather than let her thoughts move on, she chose to dwell on what could have been. Near the end of junior year, she had a golden opportunity to tell him exactly how she felt. She remembered it vividly, down to every painful detail.

It had been a Monday in the month of May. The Clarinet Choir was rehearsing for their end of the year recital in the band room. Kevin conducted while Butters and Annie shared 1st part.

"Okay, fourth parts, really bring out the counter melody. I want to feel like Phil Spector; I want a wall of sound." Kevin advised. "Let's play it once more!"

The group did as they were instructed, transforming the notes on the page into an organic auditory sensation. When the final note was released, Kevin was elated with the result.

"Excellent! If you all keep practicing, this will be the best recital yet!" Kevin gently set the baton on the stand. "By the way, Butters, Annie, you two are fantastic together on first part! Your sounds blend together and give the impression of a single clarinet playing. Keep up the great work!"

The clarinet section packed away their instruments and got ready to leave.

"You played great today, Butters," said Annie, with a smile.

"Oh, thank you!" Butters smiled back. "You too!"

By this point, everyone else had left the band room. Annie braced herself for what she planned to lead up to. Before she could reply, Butters continued speaking while cleaning his clarinet.

"It's great hanging out with you in band everyday. I mean, it's like we've sat next to each other in every single band class we've been in."

Annie laughed. "That's what happens when I have a worthy adversary for the prestigious title of 2nd chair."

Butters laughed too. "It's always a battle for 2nd chair since Kevin is just on a completely different tier when it comes to his playing."

"I think our record against each other is even now," Annie noted. "We both have three 2nd chair placements."

"Yeah… next year decides it all. Not that I mind too much if you were to win."

"Same for you…"

"I think I'm quite content with my level of playing though. I mean, if it weren't for all of those chairing tests in 6th grade and if my playing ability had been significantly better or worse, I wouldn't be as good of friends as I am with you."

Annie blushed. She knew that now was the time.

"Butters, I've been meaning to tell you something for awhile now… something serious."

"Oh, hamburgers! What is it, Annie?"

"I…" she trailed off. She began shaking nervously and fidgeting.

"Annie, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Butters… I just…" she trailed off once again.

Butters put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's okay. Don't worry, you can tell me anything!"

Annie finally seized shaking and commanded herself to tell him the truth.

"Butters, I-"

At that moment, the band room door swung open.

"Butters, Annie!" shouted Kevin.

The two of them spun to face the door.

"I left my sheet music on the conductor's stand. May you please get it for me?"

"Of course Kevin!" shouted Butters joyfully. He grabbed the music and handed it over to him.

"Thanks bro!" Kevin took it and departed, once again leaving Butters and Annie alone in the room.

Butters turned back to Annie. "Now, what was it that you were going to say?"

Annie sighed. Her confidence had disappeared.

"I just wanted to say that… I'm going to beat you again and get second chair next year!" she lied.

Butters laughed. "That's what you think! I don't mind if you win, but I'm not just going to give it to you! I'm going to practice harder than I've ever practiced for that chairing piece!"

Annie forced herself to smile. "Go ahead and try! Next year will be my final win!"

"Nope! That was this year! Senior year will be the year of Butters Stotch!"

Butters emphatically closed his clarinet case and marched to the door, in a mock military pose. "The battle begins today!" he called, raising his fist before exiting.

And, like that, Annie was by herself in the band room, alone with her thoughts.

Annie dropped her head into her arms, succumbing to the weight of the memory. She wished to become immovable, like a giant boulder, and wallow in the pain of the past until it faded from her mind.

The sharp bell punctuated her misery.

Mr. Garrison sprung up from his chair. "Alright, class! See you all tomorrow!"

Annie lay there motionless for a few more moments until she noticed that Butters was also still in the classroom, slightly teary-eyed.

"Butters?" she called out. "Are you okay?"

Butters glanced at her and just turned away, embarrassed.

"N-no… I just have something in my eye…" he lied.

"Butters…"

"Okay, okay, I just feel bad for poor old Mr. Darcy, that's all."

"Jeez, how far are you? He doesn't get redeemed until much later. He acts like a jerk in the beginning..."

"I'm pretty far already. It's just that he's so socially elite but he has a heart of gold and Lizzie Bennet doesn't know it." Butters wiped his eyes. "Wait, how do you know what happens?"

"Butters, many girls read _Pride and Prejudice_ in their early teenage years. It's just one of those quintessential books for young women."

"Oh."

"Why are you so invested in Mr. Darcy?"

"I don't know… I guess I just relate to him."

A sudden lump formed in Annie's throat. "In what way?"

"Well, um, that's personal…"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude-"

"No, no… you're good," he reassured her. "I guess I just got sad because of the Darcy stuff and the stress of hosting the party this weekend. Eric's trying to plan some sneaky way for my parents to get away this weekend and I know that as soon as they find out I hosted a party while they were gone, I'm going to be grounded until the end of senior year."

"Oh, Butters." Annie put a comforting arm around his shoulder. "I'm sorry…"

"It's okay. As long as everyone enjoys the party, it will be worth it."

"Don't worry, they will." She gave him a pat on the back. "If you need any help planning it, just ask. I'm free this week."

"Thanks, Annie. You've always been a great friend." Butters then glanced up at the clock. "Oh, hamburgers! I'm going to be late for football practice! I'll talk to you later!"

He rushed out of the classroom, and once again, Annie was alone with her thoughts. However, she couldn't help but feel that things were trending in the opposite direction this time.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13: Marsh Lands**

An exhausted Stan opened the door and slumped into his house. He immediately collapsed onto the couch, barely conscious.

"Hey Stan!" Randy called out from the kitchen. "How was school today?"

"Tiring," groaned Stan.

"Oh, really? That sounds like fun," Randy responded, making a feeble attempt to hide the fact he hadn't listened to Stan.

Stan didn't care though. He just rested on the couch and closed his eyes. Unfortunately, that drew the ire of his disgruntled sister who had just descended down the staircase.

"Get off the couch, turd! I want to watch television!"

"Not now, Shelley!" Stan called back. "I just want to sleep!"

"If you don't move right now, I'm telling Mom!"

Stan let out an exasperated sigh. "For God's sake Shelley, you're not twelve anymore! Act like a fucking adult!"

Shelley became even more aggravated and got up in Stan's face, raising her fist. "What did you say to me? How dare you talk back!"

Stan, realizing he was heading towards a no-win situation, reluctantly got off the couch. Shelley plopped down onto it with satisfaction.

"That's better…"

Stan, still seeking slumber, made his way up the stairs. He entered his bedroom and shut the door. When he fell onto his bed, he was greeted with the warmth of his blankets. He exhaled in satisfaction and settled in for a nap. Stan had scarcely closed his eyes when a vibration from his phone jolted him back. He hastily pulled his phone out of his pocket to view the message.

_Wendy Testaburger:_

_I heard that practice was rough today._

Stan unlocked his phone and typed back his message immediately:

_Yeah, Garrison really laid it into us. I can't help but think it has something to do with Clyde missing practice yesterday… _

He clicked the send button and watched as the message's status changed from sent to delivered to read. In moments, a digital ellipses signaled that Wendy was texting him back. Her message sent seconds later.

_Yeah, but given the circumstances, Clyde had a legitimate reason to miss practice_

Stan was perplexed. He texted a simple response.

_What?_

It had taken very little time before Wendy had read Stan's message and responded with her own.

_Wait, you don't know? It's a long story. Here, let me call you…_

In moments, Stan's phone was ringing, receiving a call from his girlfriend. He quickly picked it up and feigned being well-rested, despite laying quite comfortably under his blankets.

He initiated the conversation. "Thanks for the call, Call Girl. So, what happened?"

Wendy laughed and Stan couldn't help but break a smile.

She composed herself. "Okay, nice wordplay there. But in all seriousness, did you notice Clyde was acting differently today?"

Stan thought for a moment. "Different how?"

Wendy tried to help him understand without explicitly telling him. "Like, a change in his personality…"

"I mean, he seemed much more calm today. Yesterday, he was going off at Cartman and Kyle but today, he scarcely even raised his voice."

"Yeah..." said Wendy. "You are exactly right."

"I still don't get what this has to do with football practice."

"Oh, Stan!" Wendy exclaimed. "Just let it all sink in; all the events of yesterday and today."

Stan did just that, trying to connect all the pieces together. He mentally drew links between the days and noticed one key difference that hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Oh, shit. He wasn't with Bebe today."

"Exactly."

"You mean she broke up with him?" Stan was bewildered. "Because of his outbursts? Damn. Poor Clyde."

"Yeah, I feel bad for him, but I think it's better for both of them this way. Don't go around telling other people about this though, okay?"

"Don't worry, Wendy," Stan replied. He let out a sigh. "Oh man, did Clyde at least take it well?"

"I mean, you saw him today. He was calmer, more reserved. Did he seem sad to you?"

"No, he wasn't even out of it emotionally. I never would've guessed. Damn, I just feel so bad for him."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Wendy reassured him. "It's not like it's your fault or anything."

"I mean that's true, but at the same time, it just doesn't feel right. Bebe meant the world to him and, for the first time, we saw a new side of Clyde. He was romantic. He didn't want a fling; he wanted something real. A lot of the guys roasted him whenever he was around Bebe. We would try to egg him on when he'd get annoyed with us. Even though I wasn't the one making jokes, I didn't stop it. I just laughed along with them. I'm just as responsible."

"Stan, trust me, you don't need to worry about this. You're not responsible for it..."

"Yeah, but what if this was us, Wendy? What if everyone made fun of me the same way we did to him? If everyone piled on me and you left, I don't even know what I'd do. I can't even imagine what Clyde is going through right now..."

Wendy tried to console him. "Stan, that would never happen. You know how to release emotions healthily. You aren't afraid to show your emotional side; you can tell people how you feel. It's one of the things I admire about you."

Stan felt a little better. "Thanks, Wendy. You always know how to make me feel better. That's one of the things I admire about you."

Wendy giggled. "Oh Stan. You're so cheesy sometimes. And… very transparent. Anyways, I've got to eat dinner with my family. Are you still up for the study date tomorrow?"

"Of course!"

"Great, I'll see you tomorrow! Love you!"

"I love you too!"

Stan hung up with a smile. He nestled back into his covers, determined to get a head start on his rest before he would inevitably be burning the midnight oil with Mr. Peeba's history homework.

Before he could shut his eyes, his slumber was interrupted once more. This time, his father beckoned for him from the ground floor.

"Stan! It's time for dinner, bud!"

Stan groaned, left his bed, headed downstairs, and entered the kitchen.

He found his plate already piled high with food and his mother, father, and sister waiting for him. They began eating straight away.

"So, champ," started Randy. "I haven't gotten the chance to ask you yet, how was school today?"

"Dad, you already asked me about school," replied Stan.

"I did? I mean, oh yes, I did!" Randy exclaimed, trying to save face. "So, uh… how did you answer me the first time?"

Stan was stoic as he responded, completely unphased by his father's lack of awareness. "The same thing I always say to you."

"Oh, yeah! That's right!"

"Jeez, Randy!" shouted Sharon. "Can you at least show some interest in our son's life?"

"What?" asked Randy. "Stan's day was completely normal! Nothing out of the ordinary, just hangin' with the boys, uh… shooting hoops and auditioning for the school play."

"Actually, that's the plot of _High School Musical_," corrected Shelley. "He only said his day was 'tiring,' Dad."

"Not now, Shelley!" Randy scolded.

"Really, Randy? Really?" cried an exasperated Sharon. "Is it that hard to just listen to what your son tells you?"

"Listen, Mom, I don't really care," said Stan. "I'm just fine with it."

"You're only 'fine with it' because your father has paid you so little attention!" shouted an increasingly angry Sharon. "Apparently, it's the norm in this household!"

"Sharon, you're at an eight right now," Randy said softly. "We need you to dial it back to about a three."

"Oh, brother!" yelled Sharon, throwing her arms into the air.

"Stan, can you pass the potatoes?" asked Randy.

"Yeah, sure Dad," answered Stan, handing him the bowl.

"So Stanley," began Sharon (while shooting daggers at Randy), "how are things going at school?"

"They're going pretty well. It's probably too early to tell, but I don't think my classes will be too bad."

"Well, that's good… Do you have any plans coming up with your friends?"

"Yeah, I'm going to Wendy's house tomorrow to study."

"Now, that sounds really nice!"

"Yeah," agreed Stan. "It'll be a good chance to hang out with her and catch up on my classes."

"Wait a minute… catch up on your classes?" Sharon was starting to get angry again. "It's only the second day of school! What on Earth do you have to catch up on? You haven't been skipping your classes, have you?"

"No! No!" Stan protested. "Of course I've been attending classes! It's just that I've been planning a party- oh shit."

"What?" questioned Sharon, her anger erupting. "You haven't been paying attention in class so you can plan a party you're throwing?"

"It's not that bad, I swear! We just want to have a great Senior year!"

"Not that bad? You need to be paying attention in school! You can't just be goofing around in class!"

"It's okay, Sharon! I got this," Randy interrupted. He turned to his son. "Stan, you were planning a party at school? That's badass!"

"Randy!"

"I mean… shame on you!"

Sharon groaned. "Where is this party being held, Stan? It's not here… is it?"

"No, don't worry! It's not being held at our house, I promise."

Sharon narrowed her eyes. "Then why are you planning it?"

"Well," Stan gulped. "It's not just me. It's a group of the guys."

Sharon softened a bit. "So, one of you is hosting it?"

"Yes."

Sharon looked at him skeptically. "Okay, well pay attention in class from now on."

"You've got it, Mom."

The four of them returned to their dinner in total silence. When Stan finished his meal, he went back upstairs to work on his homework. Sharon eyed him the whole way. Once he was out of earshot, she turned to Randy.

"Something seems fishy about this, Randy. We didn't know about the party until now and it's going to happen this weekend!"

Randy looked at her with concern. "What should we do?"

"Well," said Sharon, "If Stan is a major part of this operation and he tried to hide it from us, I think his classmates are trying to pull something right under the noses of all the parents. We need to let them know what's going on."

"Now?"

"Right now."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14: Applying Is Half The Battle**

"'Therefore, that's why I'm applying to Stanford Law School.' Done. What do you think, Ike?"

"I'm sorry, but that sucks ass, Kyle." Ike Broflovski admitted to his older brother.

Kyle frowned. "You really think so? Jeez, if even you think it's that bad, the graders are going to shit all over this!"

He deleted his entire last paragraph and went to work constructing a conclusion for his essay.

He turned back to his younger brother. "Just to be clear, you thought the entire last paragraph sucked, right?"

Ike sighed. "Well, more than that. As a whole, the essay is very lacking in personality and style. It's the conclusion in general that's especially bad."

Kyle was dejected. "Well, I might as well delete my entire essay then. I'll work on my other applications then…"

Ike felt bad for being so brutally honest. "Sorry about that bro."

"No, it's okay, Ike. I need honest feedback so I don't just send crap to all of these schools. Let me just work on these some more and I'll show you what I have tomorrow. I promise that they'll be better than this one."

Ike left the room, shutting the door while Kyle stared at his computer screen. He had already finished his other applications, applying to both Harvard and Yale, but Stanford was by and far his number one school. He dreamed about the sunny California location, a sense of community within the law school, the mighty Redwoods surrounding the area, and living the rest of his life in the Bay Region. He remembered the brief period of time he had lived in San Francisco in 4th grade, but this was much different. Whereas he hated San Francisco, Palo Alto spoke to him. They were only 30 miles apart, but, it was like a completely different planet to him.

He continued to stare at his computer screen, lost in his own thoughts, when he felt a vibration from his phone. He looked down and saw a notification that Stan had begun texting him a flurry of messages:

_Stan Marsh:_

_SHIT DUDE SHIT_

_Stan Marsh:_

_My parents found out about the party_

_Stan Marsh:_

_I accidentally told them at dinner_

_Stan Marsh:_

_FUCK! I just overheard them saying they're getting all of our parents together_

Kyle felt a whirlwind of emotions as he read the messages. Everything was falling apart. If Butters' parents found out about the party, they would eventually realize that they were being led on a wild goose chase in Cartman's attempt to lure them out of the house Saturday night. Even if Butters took the brunt of the punishment (which he inevitably would), that would still mean, at the very least, that the party would have to be indefinitely postponed until their parents let their guard down again.

Kyle, despite seeing the great plan crumble right in front of his eyes, held his composure. He deliberately typed out his reply to Stan.

_FaceTime all the guys right now. We need to let them all know as soon as possible._

No sooner than a minute after he sent his reply, Kyle received an incoming FaceTime call from Stan. He quickly accepted it and Stan's face popped up on his screen. In moments, Butters, Cartman, Kenny, Craig, Tweek, Token, and Jimmy joined the call.

"Guys, we have a code red!" shouted Stan. "The cat is out of the bag. It's only a matter of hours before all of our parents find out about the party this weekend."

"Oh, damn it all to hell!" Cartman yelled. "Butters, how did you fuck it up this time?"

"Me? I didn't do anything, Eric!" Butters protested.

"Fat fucking chance there!" Cartman screamed back.

"Guys, guys! Stop! It was me!" Stan admitted.

"Wait, what?" asked Kenny, in bewilderment. "I actually was with Cartman on this one. I thought that it was Butters!"

"Hey!" interjected Butters.

"That's a big oof right there," quipped Token.

"Guys," Kyle interrupted. "Let Stan speak."

"Thanks, Kyle," said Stan. "So, this is how it happened. I was at dinner with my parents and I slipped that we were having a party. They thought I was hosting it and seemed relieved when I said it wasn't, but, they seemed incredibly suspicious about us planning it during school. I overheard that they were organizing something to tell all of our parents. It sounds like they're trying to put an end to all of this."

"Oh, hamburgers!" shouted Butters. "I'm going to be so grounded! I'll be lucky to be allowed to see you guys again before we graduate."

Butters began sobbing uncontrollably. Craig groaned upon hearing it.

"Butters, no one's getting grounded," Kyle said. "They aren't going to find out where we're holding it."

"Wait, how is that, K-Kyle?" asked Jimmy. "If Stan's parents are g-g-getting all the adults from in t-t-town, how can we keep all them away?"

"Yeah, Kyle. This seems like a lost cause," added Craig.

"Oh, shut up Craig!" retorted Cartman. "Just because your party sucked balls last year doesn't mean that everyone else can't plan around contingencies!"

Craig gave him the quick flip of his middle finger. "Screw you, fatass."

"I've got an idea!" exclaimed Token. "What if one of us 'conveniently' drops a piece of paper with a fake address on it? We could even put a fake day on there, so when we actually have the party, it'll catch them off guard."

"D-d-d-damn dude, that's genius!" replied Jimmy.

"GAH! But what if our parents find out our plan?! What if they don't fall for it?!" fretted Tweek.

"Don't worry, dude," said Kenny. "Have you seen the crazy shit that they fall for? They thought we had become Mongolian that one time they kicked us out of town for a day."

"Yeah, and don't even get me started on the stupid crap my dad does," noted Stan.

Kyle was very pleased. "This might actually work."

"Of course it's going to work," replied Cartman with a smile. "Token, you are a genius."

"So, here's the gameplan going forward," Stan said. "Your parents likely aren't going to try to ask you directly about the party. They won't let on that they know. They'll try to be sneaky. So, you need to be careful with what you say. Don't say anything incriminating and definitely, don't say when or where the party is. We'll meet up tomorrow to discuss the logistics of our plan to throw them off. Cartman, have you set your operation in motion to remove Butters' parents?"

"Way ahead of you, bro."

"Excellent. Be prepared to modify it at any time. See you all tomorrow."

The call ended and Kyle was alone again, staring at his applications. He tapped his mouse, thinking about what to edit. Each time that he typed something out, he immediately deleted it, thinking it sounded stupid.

Giving up, he sighed in frustration. Realistically, he knew many of his classmates from South Park High School and the surrounding area that would be applying to the same elite colleges as he was, making it unlikely that he would be accepted by any of them.

_Everyone else is much more qualified than I am_, he thought.

His feelings of inadequacy overtook him. He needed to know where all of his serious competitors were applying to gauge where he stood. Without even thinking, he pulled open his phone and called Heidi Turner. It took a few rings before she picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey Heidi!"

"Kyle! What's up?"

Kyle hesitated, then began. "I've been working on my college apps recently. I've been thinking of applying to some elite schools."

"Well, which ones?"

"Primarily Stanford. I'm also applying to Harvard and Yale, but I really want to go to Stanford."

"Okay, so, what about it?" Heidi asked.

Kyle stopped dancing around the point. "Well, I know these schools will have very competitive admissions. Since everyone knows that they are academic juggernauts, there's going to be a ton of people applying for them. I'm just worried about everyone else who is applying. Do you know where everyone's applying to?"

Heidi thought about it for a moment. "I'm not sure if anyone else is applying to Stanford. I know for sure that Kevin is not. His dream school is Princeton, so that's the only application he's sending in to the group of elite schools. I haven't asked Wendy or Butters where they're applying yet so I don't know about them."

"Where are you applying to?"

Heidi seemed a little uncomfortable. "Um, well… definitely not Stanford..."

"Heidi, if you're applying to Stanford, you can just tell me."

She sighed. "Okay, I'm applying to Stanford, but, I haven't finished my application yet."

"Why were you trying to hide it from me, Heidi?"

"I just didn't want to make you upset, Kyle. You seemed very stressed about who was applying and I can tell how much getting in there would mean to you."

"That doesn't mean you have to hide it," he said. "You can go wherever you want to. It's not like I'm upset that you're applying to Stanford. In fact, I think it's great. It'd be so cool to go there with you."

"You really think so?"

"Yeah, of course. It'd be nice to see a friendly face in a pool of strangers."

"Thanks, bud. I think it'd be cool to go there with you too."

Kyle smiled. "Wow, I guess talking with you has made me feel a whole lot better about my applications. Thanks so much!"

"No problem, Kyle. By the way, don't worry about how qualified you think you are for all these elite schools. You're a great student and a great friend. In the end, that's all that really matters."

"Thanks Heidi! See you in Physics!"

"Bye Kyle!"

The two of them ended their call and Kyle sat back in his chair, as if liberated from all of the anxiety weighing him down.

A knock came at his door.

"Kyle, your father and I are going to a special parents meeting," called out Sheila Broflovski. "We hope to be back in an hour or so."

A knowing smile spread across Kyle's face. "Okay, love you, Mom!"

He got up from his chair to the window and watched as his parents' minivan backed out of the driveway and drove down the block to the Marsh's house.

"It's go time."


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:** I don't know when I will write and publish the next chapter, but rest assured that it will be in the next couple weeks. I'm really enjoying writing the story so far and I hope you are enjoying it too! I'm toying with the idea of adding some different plot threads, but I'll probably try to map it out and see where I want to go so I don't end up with too much of a mess. The house party will be the end of this first story arc, with others to follow (and other concurrent plot threads that continue to weave through different arcs). My goal is to write a continuous, interconnecting experience, similar to real life. Anyways, enjoy the chapter!

* * *

**Chapter 15: A Walk To Remember**

Kenny trudged through the muddy field over to the same old bus stop he had been going to since preschool. The walk was monotonous, yes, but it offered him a needed time to reflect every day. He knew that once he arrived, he would be greeted by yet another argument between Kyle and Cartman, so he cherished the time he would spend in solitude.

This particular day, every step he took made him think about the old days. Seeing the cemetery in the distance, he recalled the strange and wonderful people he had met over the years who were now gone.

His old fourth grade teacher, Ms. Choksondik had died in the time span of his longest death. He didn't particularly miss her, but it made him realize the gap of time since she was living. It felt like a lifetime before, so long ago that he doubted his classmates remembered much about her. Even Mr. Mackey likely had forgotten their short fling.

His old bus driver, Ms. Crabtree had perished due to the Left Hand Killer. Another death that could be attributed to Cartman, as his stupidity had caused the deaths of more than half a dozen people due to his claims of being a psychic detective. A plan that would not even rank in the top ten of Cartman's vile schemes claimed the life of someone that, for many years, they saw first thing in the morning. Like Ms. Choksondik, Kenny didn't really miss her, but it was amazing to him that, for the longest time, her presence was a constant in his life.

He scanned the cemetery as he continued onward, noticing the largest tombstone jutting from the earth near the fence. This marker did not have a body buried with it, but, its owner was as dead as a doornail. Unlike the other two, Kenny had seen this person perish right before his eyes. The tombstone belonged to none other than Chef.

Kenny's eyes became watery as he had vivid flashbacks of all the adventures he and his three closest friends went on with Chef. The time they had to save Chef from marrying a succubus was fresh in his mind, as was the time that he and his friends had met up with famous musicians to raise money for Chef to counter sue the record company who stole his song. However, in the middle of all those grand journeys they had shared was a father figure for the four of them. Chef had truly cared and listened to them unlike many of the adults in the mountain town. He represented the best of a (arguably) more innocent time, back when Kenny had been the only one of the four boys who understood Chef's adult phrases and before Cartman had gone through his several year phase of being a malicious, evil bastard.

But, death didn't distinguish Chef from the adults Kenny was apathetic towards. Despite being friendly unlike Crabtree and a good mentor unlike Choksondik, he was taken just the same. After his funeral service, the adults quickly moved on, and, eventually, most of the children did too. He was just gone and there was nothing that could be done about it. By the time they had entered high school, he was nothing but a faint memory, seldom remembered.

For Kenny though, he thought of Chef relatively frequently. Being especially sensitive to death with his own experiences, he recognized the severity of his friend's demise. He felt guilty that he was given infinite chances to live whereas Chef had only been given one. Had he been given the opportunity, he would happily give some of his infinite lives to those of his friends who had been taken too early. Pip and Jason White would be high on the list for sure, but, by far, Chef would be the first person that he would save with such a gift.

Taking one last look at the cemetery, Kenny wiped his eyes with his sleeve and finished his route to the bus stop. When he finally arrived, he had found himself once again on the outside of a Kyle and Cartman debate. He was unphased by this and stood by Stan, who was also too weary to get involved in the verbal sparring.

"Hey Kenny," said Stan with a yawn. "What's up?"

"Oh, you know," said Kenny. "Just the same old shit."

He looked out in the cemetery's direction and Stan followed his gaze.

"What's out there?" Stan asked.

Kenny smiled faintly. "Just an old friend…"

Stan sighed, sadly. He didn't even have to ask to determine who it was.

"Chef…" Stan said softly.

The mere mention of his name was enough to freeze Kyle and Cartman's heated debate. They looked at each other, then down at the ground in shame.

"He wouldn't want us to be fighting about something this stupid, Kahl," Cartman spoke.

"Yeah…" Kyle agreed.

Kenny frowned. "I'm sorry guys, I didn't mean to dampen the mood. I just was thinking about him and how he didn't deserve what happened."

"It's okay, dude," replied Stan.

A somber tone enveloped the bus stop as the four of them stopped talking altogether. They remained silent until the bus arrived. Upon its arrival, they hopped aboard and sat in the back as the bus rolled along once more.

As the busses were divided by level of schooling (a big perk of being part of a small town), the four of them had been riding the bus with the same group of classmates since the early days. Kenny was certain that it was the exact same bus as well, but, the other three were skeptical.

When the bus reached the next stop, Butters got on. He immediately saw the four boys in the back and hustled over to join them.

"Fellas! Fellas!" he shouted, well before he had reached his seat in front of them.

"Damn it, Butters! You don't need to yell on the bus!" exclaimed Stan, covering his ears. "We can hear you just fine!"

"What is it, Butters?" asked Kenny.

"My parents were looking at me real funny this morning. They probably know the party's at my house! It's not looking good!"

"Get a hold of yourself, soldier!" yelled Cartman, shaking Butters back to his senses.

"Whew, thanks Eric!"

"Don't worry too much, dude," added Kyle. "Our plan to throw all the adults off is fool proof. We just need you and everyone else to stay zipped up until lunch. Once we have everything all figured out, it will be smooth sailing from here until Saturday."

"Are you sure?" asked Butters.

Kenny hesitated. "Well… assuming the note is successful, we only need to count on one person to hold up their end of the bargain…"

Kenny turned to Cartman and Stan, Kyle, and Butters quickly did the same.

Cartman threw up his arms in disbelief and then crossed them. "Seriously, you guys? My part of this plan is the one that's guaranteed to work."

"You're not going to t-turn my p-parents into chili, are you?" Butters stammered.

"That was ONCE!" Cartman cried in frustration, angrily looking away. "Seriously, you cook one kid's parents and feed it to him and you never live it down for the rest of your life…"

"Okay, okay, whatever… that was only once," appeased Stan. "But, you're not going to do anything harmful to Butters' parents, are you?"

"Of course not! This is a distraction, not a revenge mission. There's nothing bad that will happen. No blackmailing, no poop smearing, no lawsuits, no moon launches, no ICE detainments, no accusations of molestation, nothing."

Butters smiled, feeling a bit better. "Okay."

The five of them sat back in their seats and waited for the bus to finish its rounds and finally arrive at the school. Kenny watched the mountains as they drove along, focusing all his energy on the peaks and valleys that marked the distant landscape. Their enduring presence spoke to him. No matter the people that would come and go, the mountain range would remain. The mountains saw everything that had come and gone in that area.

Kenny sighed. The range held mostly forgotten memories of a much earlier time, not too much unlike himself.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16: Make Him An Offer He Can't Refuse**

Butters was already in his seat, his clarinet assembled on his lap, when the bell rang. Mrs. Visans was not in sight, but he stayed firmly locked in his seat. He was shaking from head to toe in anticipation for the meeting that would take place at lunch. He was actively counting down the seconds until his friends would discuss their new plan, worried at every moment that a phone call from the office would send him in to see his parents, ready to ground him.

While the others in his section dismissed this as typical Butters behavior, Annie did her best to see what was troubling him.

"Butters, are you all right?"

Butters answered, but didn't cease shaking. "No, no, no… I am going to be grounded for sure. I'm screwed."

Annie put her hand on Butters' shoulder. "It's all going to be okay. Just tell me what happened…"

"Stan let it slip to his parents that there's going to be a party this weekend. His parents told all of our parents, so, as soon as my mom and dad find out that the party is at our house, I'll be grounded."

"Oh, buddy…" Annie gave the trembling Butters a quick hug.

"Thanks, Annie," spoke Butters. He sighed. "I just kind of wish I hadn't gotten roped into this party business at all."

"Then you should just tell the guys to have it somewhere else. You don't have to be the one hosting-"

"But I do!" Butters protested. "I have to host the party! It's the only way that R- I mean, it's the only way that I prove my loyalty to the guys!"

"At the risk of your own mental health?" Annie frowned. "Butters, I think I'm going to have a word with all of them. They shouldn't be pushing you around like this…"

"No! Wait! Please don't!"

Butters' screams of protest fell upon deaf ears as Annie (unwisely) confronted Cartman.

She glared at him. "Cartman! You and your friends need to back off of Butters! All of the pressure of the party is really taking a toll on him."

Cartman narrowed his eyes. "Excuse me, bitch?"

Butters gulped. "Oh hamburgers, Eric's really going to chew her out now…"

Cartman roared. "That ungrateful douchebag over there VOLUNTEERED to do this! The rest of us are doing our damnedest to make sure it goes smoothly! We're the ones doing all the FUCKING work!" He slammed his music stand for emphasis.

Annie shrunk back upon hearing the eruption. Cartman raised his eyebrow, as if daring her to make the next move. Annie, knowing that nothing she could say or do could get through to him, returned to her seat next to Butters. Butters gave her a reassuring look, then sighed.

"I told you that you shouldn't have done that…"

Annie shook her head. "Butters, I see why it's hard for you to stand up for yourself since you have to deal with that fat asshole-"

"Annie, really-"

"Always telling you what to do-"

"It really is fine-"

"Who doesn't listen to you-"

"Annie, listen to me, please!" Butters protested. "It's not just that. I really want to host the party!"

Annie looked at him skeptically. "So you can 'show your loyalty to the guys?' They're manipulating you!"

Butters looked down in shame. "I lied to you. That's not the real reason why I'm hosting it."

"Then what's the real reason?"

Butters fidgeted with his hands, twirling his thumbs. "I don't want to tell you."

"Okay," said Annie. "You don't have to tell me."

"I feel like I owe it to you, though. I don't want you worrying about me and my stupid problems."

Annie frowned. "Your problems aren't stupid, Butters."

Annie reached out to hold Butters' hand to make him feel better. She blushed as she realized what she was doing and immediately brought her hand back. Butters was none the wiser.

Butters sighed in resignation and stared at the ground. "The truth is, I'm holding the party to… um… impress someone, someone I really care about."

Annie blushed once more, rubbing her arm nervously. Her heart rate increased rapidly and she was almost too overwhelmed to think.

"That's very... sweet of you, Butters."

Butters turned his head to face her, their eyes upon each other. "You think so? Well, thanks, Annie."

He sighed and looked ahead once more, staring directly at the French Horn section and, more specifically, the crimson haired lady whom he fancied. _I just hope that Red likes it,_ he thought.

At that moment, there was a loud burst of sound as Mrs. Visans hastily battered open the door.

"Sorry I'm late, students," she said, throwing her briefcase haphazardly into her personal office. "Some days, you get out of the bathroom and you find the divorce papers are lying on the table."

From across the room, Bebe, Kyle, and Stan did the best they could to stifle their laughter, which admittedly had very little effect. Mrs. Visans ignored the muffled giggling as she started looking through her briefcase.

"Shit!" she exclaimed under her breath. "I left my sheet music in the car."

She turned to face the class of students.

"I'm sorry about this, but I need to go back to my vehicle. Just hang tight until I get back and we can start tuning!"

A small round of applause and soft cheers came from the students. Once again, Mrs. Visans paid no attention to this and was out of the door before any of them could make fun of her anymore.

Annie turned to Butters once again, hoping to talk some more with him, but found him conversing with Kevin Stoley about the new music. She sighed happily and let her mind wander to how she imagined the party would turn out.

In her head, she saw Butters and herself sitting together alone on his back porch having a nice heart to heart chat. She would reveal her feelings for him and he would finally understand everything. The tension between them would be gone and they would be together at last.

Annie smiled to herself, even though she knew that this was an unrealistic fantasy. She was snapped back to reality once again when Mrs. Visans burst through the band door once more with her missing sheet music, causing a small, but concentrated amount of groans from the saxophone section.

"Okay class, let's begin…"

* * *

"That's all I have for today, folks! Pack up your instruments and get out of here!"

Mrs. Visans' dismissal sent most of the class rushing to leave, embracing the end of yet another torturous class period. Most of the students congregated in their usual friend groups and before long, the classroom was nearly empty.

"I hope you're feeling better about the party, Butters," said Annie, who had just finished packing up her clarinet. "Remember, I'd be more than happy to help you set it up if you need me!"

Butters wore his typical clueless grin, lacking any sort of awareness to the deeper nature of her comments. "Sounds good, Annie! Bye!"

Butters went back to putting his instrument away as she walked out the door. He whistled and began singing his favorite Chicago song with a certain ruby-haired student on his mind.

"If you leave me now, you'll take away the biggest part of me…. Ooohh no baby please don't go… Ooohh no girl-"

"Butters!" shouted a voice behind him.

"Oh, hey Clyde!"

Clyde Donovan had bags under his eyes and his brown hair was much messier than usual. He looked as though he had done a lot of hard living in a very short amount of time. Butters, of course, took no notice to this at all and maintained his cheery demeanor.

Clyde stared straight at him. "Butters, I need your help."

"Well, what do you need help with?"

"Butters, take a look at me and tell me one thing. How do I look?"

Butters scanned him up and down. "Um, handsome?"

"No, damn it! I'm weary, I'm sad, I'm lonely! I didn't get any sleep last night." Clyde began weeping. "I thought I could get through it with some help from Mackey but once I got home, I just couldn't do it…"

Butters was thoroughly confused. "Get through what?"

Clyde did the best he could to speak in choked sobs. "Bebe broke up with me... two days ago. It was due to my anger problems. I got help from Mackey yesterday... and I'm meeting with him to work on controlling my temper, but I… still miss her so much."

"Oh Jeez! I'm sorry about that, Clyde."

Clyde wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "I think I really loved her. In fact, I still do."

"Well, how exactly could I help you with that?" asked Butters.

"The party this weekend is the perfect chance to win her back… but I need some help from you to make it happen."

"In what way?"

Clyde leaned in closer, his voice raw and emotional. "I want to serenade Bebe. I want to win her back with a love song and I need you to play guitar."

"Me?!" Butters was shocked. "B-b-but… I haven't played guitar in a long time. There's no way I can learn a song in two days!"

"Don't worry, dude," Clyde replied. "We can rehearse after football today. I promise that you can learn it quickly. I'll play drums and sing; I just need you to play guitar."

Butters weighed his options for a second. "All right, I'll do it."

"Sweet!" exclaimed Clyde, incredibly grateful. "Thanks so much dude! If you want, you can pick out any song you want and I'll learn it so we can perform that at the party too!"

"Thank you for the offer, but I'm good," said Butters.

"Are you sure? Isn't there someone special that you'd like to serenade?" asked Clyde.

As if unlocking a subconscious part of the brain, those words sent Butters' imagination into overdrive. He responded without even thinking.

"Absolutely, let's do it!"

Clyde smiled. "Great! I can't wait! I've got the perfect song for my lady..."

A big grin was plastered on Butters' face. "Me too…"


	17. Chapter 17

****A/N: ****Due to the recent Coronavirus situation, a lot of things are changing in my personal life and I need to get my ducks in a row before I can continue writing. I have a busy week coming up with all of the changes, so it's likely that the next chapter won't be released until two week from now. However, once I get everything sorted out, I should have more time than ever to work on the story, so expect chapters that are longer (and likely, higher quality) in the near future. Hope you enjoy this one!

* * *

**Chapter 17: Operation Bait and Switch**

When the group of boys had all gathered in front of Mr. Peeba's door, Token knocked cautiously. No answer. The boys gave a big sigh of relief and entered the empty classroom, locking the door behind them.

"Wow, you were right, Cartman," said Token. "Mr. Peeba is always gone at noon for lunch."

"Well, duh, Token," replied Cartman. "I know how to set stuff up. I'm not an idiotic, inbred trailer trash hick. No offense, Kenny."

"Screw off, fatass!" countered Kenny.

The group of guys gathered a set of desks in a circle and started their meeting.

"Okay, so let's take some attendance," said Stan, scanning the room. "Is anybody missing?"

"Butters isn't here," noted Craig.

Cartman put his head in his hands and groaned. "Damn it, that little douchebag needs to learn how to commit-"

He was interrupted by a knock on the door and a jiggle of the door handle.

"Oh, shit!" shouted Kyle. "Everyone hide!"

They all sprung from their desks and haphazardly left them strewn about the room. The boys crouched into every nook and cranny within the space, with Tweek even nestling himself firmly on a storage shelf. The pounding on the door continued and the boys remained as quiet as ever. A voice was finally heard through the other side of the door.

"Fellas! Let me in!"

"Butters?" asked Stan, recognizing the voice.

"Are you serious, Butters? You couldn't have just told us it was you from the beginning? You had to stir up some shit first?" Craig asked sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Kyle went over to the door and opened it, revealing Butters with Clyde partially hidden behind him.

"Is it okay if Clyde joins us on this? I know he hasn't been here with us planning, but I think it'd be nice to bring him in before the party."

"Yeah, of course," Kyle responded. "He's always been one of the bros."

Kyle fist bumped Clyde and the two late attendees walked in.

Cartman rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Fuck me, we're bringing Clyde into this? Damn it, Clyde, why aren't you getting social etiquette tips from your bitch?"

A significant portion of the group laughed. Clyde frowned but didn't say anything, averting his gaze from Cartman.

Stan spoke up. "Cartman, lay off him, okay? That's not cool."

"What, is it offensive to make those jokes now?" Cartman asked. "You were laughing at it yesterday! Stan, don't be such a hippy hypocrite."

Stan stayed calm and didn't raise his voice. "Cartman, just back off, okay?"

"Hmph…" whined Cartman, crossing his arms and looking away.

"We should p-p-probably fill in Clyde at where we're at," said Jimmy.

"Yeah, that's a good idea," agreed Kyle.

"Guys, it's okay, I know exactly what's happening," protested Clyde.

"Timmah?" asked Timmy.

"Really?" asked Token. "Dude, you haven't gone to any of our meetings."

Clyde turned over to him. "Well, Butters filled me in while we were walking here."

"Butters!" exclaimed Cartman. "You're really telling our sting to anybody now?"

Butters gulped and held up his hands. "Eric, it's not like that…"

Cartman's rage became a blinding fury. "Is this a fucking joke to you? Do you think this is just some horseshit or something?"

"Eric, Eric, please..." Butters backed away to the wall as Cartman grew closer.

"If we're going to bust our balls for you, you can't jeopardize the plan, you dumbass!"

Cartman walked away from Butters, his anger drained. The group was quiet for a moment, until the silence was broken by Kenny.

"As much as I hate to admit it, Cartman's got a point, Butters. We can't just tell anybody and everybody about this operation. If there's even a sliver of doubt that the location or the time is fake, the adults aren't going to bite on it."

"Yeah dude," agreed Token. "We all have to agree to the code of silence. If even one of us slips up and tells someone on the outside, the information might leak to everyone."

Stan nodded. "I haven't even told Wendy about this, Butters. This is really confidential shit."

"However," began Kyle, "Clyde is part of our planning group now, so the issue is resolved. But, from now on, we don't tell anybody else."

The group settled down soon after and Stan took the floor. "Okay, back to business… where in the hell can we pretend to hold the party that is both believable but will also shield us from blame?"

"What if we s-say it's at the Denver Com-Com-Commun-Community Center?" asked Jimmy. "I mean, come on, events are held there all the time!"

"That's a good idea, Jimmy," replied Token. "However, it isn't super believable. The community center definitely wouldn't sponsor something like this."

"Our parents are really stupid though," argued Craig. "Remember the time Kyle's mom started a war with Canada?"

"Don't remind me," groaned Kyle.

"That's more of Kahl's mom being a bitch than being stupid, though," Cartman rebutted.

"Shut up, fatass!"

"You want to fight me, Jew boy?"

"Oh Lord, not again…" complained Clyde to himself. He popped an Ibuprofen and rubbed his temples.

"MY POINT BEING," interrupted Craig, "who's to say that they won't fall for this?"

"It's just too easy," answered Token. "They'd figure out that it's fake. Like, who the hell has ever hosted a party in the Denver Community Center, let alone, a high school party? Not to mention, even if they fell for it, they could easily call the community center and find a reservation there of some sort. It's best to just keep it in the home. Our parents have been through high school, they know what it's like. They know that parties are always held at someone's house."

"GAH! But if we say we're holding it at someone's house, that person will get in trouble! They might even rat us out!" yelled Tweek.

"Well, why can't we just fake that the party is being held the next weekend or sometime later?" asked Kenny. "That way, whomever we throw under the bus doesn't have a chance to retaliate and ruin our party!"

"It'd look very fishy though," Stan responded. "On the contrary, if we pretend it's being held earlier than it actually is, our parents will let their guard down by the time the real party rolls around. That way, it won't look suspicious when everyone leaves their house to head to the real party."

"Well, shit," said Craig. "Where do we go from here? I mean, the day and time that we'll write pretty much has to be tomorrow after the game. As for the location, we shouldn't throw someone under the bus, but we're forced to choose someone's house."

"One of us could take the fall for it," suggested Kyle.

"Well, who could it be?" asked Clyde.

"I guess we could just choose someone randomly," noted Butters.

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," Kenny replied. "We'll omit you since you already are hosting the real deal."

Stan nodded in agreement. "Okay, let's have everyone write their names on a sheet of paper and we'll see who we draw."

The group of them quickly ripped out pieces of paper, scrawled their names out, and placed it within a box they found on Mr. Peeba's desk.

"Okay, Butters, you can do the honors," said Token.

"Oh, alright."

Butters fished around in the box before selecting one of the sheets. He unfolded it and read it aloud.

"Eric Cartman."

"WHAT?" yelled Cartman. "Are you serious? Shit!"

"Sucks to suck, fatass," Craig responded dryly, as per usual.

Cartman's eyes shot daggers at him. "Swallow cum, Craig! At least my voice doesn't make Ben Stein sound interesting."

"Well, I'd rather have my voice than the one of a fatass bigot."

Cartman raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that insult, cock goblin! It's hard to pay attention to what you're saying when your crooked-ass teeth are clogging your whole mouth!"

Craig sighed and flipped off Cartman.

"Cartman, I don't care if you agree with it or not, you have to respect the lottery," interjected Kyle.

"Why don't we just make Clyde do it?" pleaded Cartman. "He's the newest member here! Why should we punish loyalty and reward new membership? Isn't this what this group was founded on? Is it fair that-"

"Shut up and just do it fatass!" cried Kenny.

"Jeez, Cartman. You're not even going to be in trouble with your mom if you do this. She lets you do whatever you want!" Stan exclaimed.

"That's not true, she-"

"Buys you everything you want?" suggested Kyle.

"No!" yelled Cartman. "She-"

"Lets you get away with your racist thoughts and ideals?" answered Token.

"No, damn it! She-"

"Enables your b-b-behavior?" proposed Jimmy.

"No! She-"

"Timmah?" asked Timmy.

Cartman had enough. "Okay, this is it! I only have one thing to say to you all!"

"Is it 'respect my authoritah?'" asked Craig.

"NO!"

The remainder of the boys burst out laughing.

"GAH! Is it 'I'm seriously, you guys?'" asked Tweek.

"NO!"

The boys laughed even harder now, with Cartman burning with fury.

"Is it 'screw you guys, I'm going home?'"

The boys howled with laughter while Cartman scowled.

"No- I mean, yeah! I mean, screw you guys, I'm staying here!"

Cartman crossed his arms and huffed, knowing he had been beaten.

"Fine, I'll do it!"

The rest of the guys cheered.

"Excellent!" exclaimed Stan. "Token, write down the fake details on a sheet of paper so we can plant it somewhere later tonight."

"Way ahead of you, dude," responded Token, waving the slip of paper with Cartman's address and the fake date and time on it.

"Meeting adjourned, boys!" shouted a triumphant Kyle. "Let's roll out!"

They all threw up their fists in celebration. "Yeah!"


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18: There's Just Bad News and Irrelevant News**

"Hey Kyle!"

A familiar voice appeared at Kyle's locker and he turned to see who it was.

"Heidi! What's up?"

"I was just wondering if you wanted to talk more about... college admissions." Heidi's face flushed as she spoke the last two words.

Kyle was perplexed. "Sure, but what about it?"

Heidi hesitated. "I'm probably going to finish my application to Stanford tonight and submit it this weekend. I was wondering if you wanted to look over it before I send it in and offer some constructive criticism."

"Yeah, sure!"

Heidi perked up. "Sweet! If you want, I can read over yours as well and help you proofread."

Kyle nodded. "That would be great!"

Heidi smiled. "Okay, awesome!"

She lingered around his locker for a small moment while Kyle was grabbing his English binder. Taking a small breath, she spoke again.

"Do you want to walk to Garrison's class together?"

"Yeah, definitely."

Heidi smiled to herself and the two of them began strolling side by side down the hall. Neither of them talked for a bit so, with a smirk, Kyle broke the awkward silence.

"Okay, what's up, Heidi?"

Her cheeks became a darker shade of pink. "What? What do you mean?"

"Well, obviously there's something on your mind."

"Yeah… I was... thinking about how ironic it is that Mr. Garrison is more qualified to teach us now as high school students than he ever was when we were in elementary school."

Kyle laughed. "If you ask me, he is not qualified to teach either."

"Oh, come on, Kyle," Heidi protested. "He's much better now than he was back then. At the very least, you can agree that his inappropriate comments and acts are much more in place now that we're on the cusp of adulthood."

"Even if we're mature enough to hear those comments, it doesn't mean that they're socially acceptable," Kyle argued.

"Well, at least he's not sticking a gerbil up someone's ass now, is he?"

"As far as we know. He may not be doing vile shit like that in front of us, but, keep in mind, that's probably around the lowest someone like him could sink to. There's nowhere but up from there."

"He's a little better now…" Heidi pleaded, her attempts at persuading Kyle clearly failing.

"That still doesn't change the fact that, even on his best days, he's like a real life David Brent," said Kyle, opening the door to the classroom, interrupting Mr. Garrison in the middle of talking.

"... And if you have lost both legs and both arms, just go 'at least I'm not dead.' I'd rather be dead in that situation, to be honest. I'm not saying people like that should be... you know, put down. I'm saying that, in my life, I'd rather not live without arms and legs because... I'm just getting into yoga, for one thing... Oh hey, Heidi and Kyle! I was just giving some motivational advice before class. Take a seat!"

Kyle gave a knowing look to Heidi. "See what I mean?"

Heidi was unphased. "Yeah, I guess I'm just too desensitized at this point to realize that. Damn, you're right, Kyle."

The two of them took their seats on opposite sides of the classroom as Mr. Garrison continued his ramblings.

"So, anyways, you just have to look on the positive side of life. There's a ton of positivity in school spirit! For example, our football team has got a real good chance at winning the state title this year!"

A small round of applause followed by the students.

"Yeah!" shouted Nichole. "And the Girls Cheer team could win states too!"

Another bout of clapping ensued.

Mr. Garrison was enthused. "That's it, Nichole! That's the right kind of positive energy!"

"And Girls Tennis is looking to have a good season this spring!" exclaimed Bebe.

"Bebe," said Cartman, "no one gives a shit about Girls Tennis."

"HEY!"

"No, he's right, Bebe," added Mr. Garrison. "No one gives a shit about Girls Tennis."

Bebe crossed her arms in frustration as Mr. Garrison continued on with his lecture as usual. Feeling bad for her, Kyle leaned over to her.

"Bebe, I care about Girls Tennis."

"Oh really?" asked Bebe, smirking. "Then how come I never saw you at a single match last year?"

Kyle shrugged. "You got me there."

Bebe giggled. "Typical. Would you want to come to a match this year?"

"Yeah, sure. Second semester will probably be lighter so I'll need to find a way to pass the time somehow," Kyle joked.

Bebe feigned anger. "Okay, smartass. By the way, I've been meaning to ask you, are we still going to have Saxophone Choir this winter?"

Kyle sarcastically sighed. "I don't know. If I'm conducting, who could I possibly trust to play first part with Stan?"

Bebe pretended to glare at him. "I don't know, maybe someone in band who's better than you at saxophone?"

Kyle laughed. "I don't know if that someone exists…"

Bebe rolled her eyes. "I'm about to beat you in chairing again…"

"For the first time in high school?"

Bebe looked at him with fake contempt. "You just watch yourself, buddy. If I were you, I-"

"Bebe! Kyle!"

Mr. Garrison had interrupted them. "If you two could leave your little lovers quarrels outside the door, maybe we could all learn something!"

"Sorry, Mr. Garrison," the two of them said in unison.

"Ooo, the Jew and the bitch sitting in a tree!" teased Cartman.

"Shut up, fatass!" exclaimed Kyle.

From across the room, having watched the whole situation unfold, both Heidi and Clyde frowned.

"Okay, where were we?" asked Mr. Garrison rhetorically. "Oh, yes! So, how are you all liking _Pride and Prejudice _so far? Yeah, Butters?"

"I think it's really tragic. Reading it makes me sad."

Cartman burst out laughing. "Are you fucking serious? Butters is crying at a Romance novel?"

He broke into a fit of hysterics, wheezing between each intense roar of laughter.

"Cartman, stop laughing at Butters!" ordered Mr. Garrison.

"I'm sorry… this is just too priceless!" cried Cartman, now on the floor.

"I can't deal with this right now!" shouted Mr. Garrison. "Just keep to yourselves class, I'm going to the staff lounge to pop some Xans."

Mr. Garrison left the room while Cartman continued howling on the floor.

"Way to go fatass!" chastised Stan. "You just enabled Garrison's prescription drug addiction!"

"I can't help it… Butters crying at _Pride and Prejudice_… what a little bitch!"

"Now, Eric," said Butters anxiously, trying to save face, "I never said I cried when I read it… I mean, I'm a very emotionally stoic guy..."

"Okay, whatever you say, Butters!" cried Cartman sarcastically, laughing so hard tears were forming in his eyes.

"Lay off of him, Cartman!" shouted Annie.

Cartman paid no attention to her and just kept on laughing. When he had finally finished, he stood up and walked to the door.

"Jeez, I need a drink of water after that one!" he snickered and left the classroom.

A tension filled the air. The classroom was uncomfortably quiet for a few moments. Craig was the first one to break the silence.

"Fuck this class, I'm out."

He flashed the bird to everyone in the room and started packing up his stuff. Just as he was about to walk out the door, Mr. Garrison calmly stepped back into the room.

"Craig, where are you going?"

"Home."

"Get back to your seat, Craig."

"No."

"Craig! Now!"

Craig returned to his seat and sprawled his books all over his desk.

"This class sucks."

Mr. Garrison pretended not to hear him.

"Now, where were we? Oh right, so what do other people think about the book so far?"

Noticing that Cartman had just returned to the room, Mr. Garrison put him on the spot.

"Eric! What do you think about _Pride and Prejudice _so far?"

"I don't know, I haven't read it."

"We literally read the first chapter in class yesterday, fatass!" exclaimed Kyle.

"Ay, I'm not fat, you Jewish half-ginger!" Cartman retaliated.

"Every fucking day," Clyde muttered to himself, gathering all of his books.

"Clyde! Where in the hell might you be going?" asked Mr. Garrison.

Clyde rubbed his temples. "I don't know how much longer I can stay in a class that devolves into a Kyle versus Cartman verbal sparring session each day."

Cartman grinned at Clyde maliciously. "Oh, so now you're getting a little upset? Well then, go to your bitch! I'm sure she wants to coddle you in her open arms."

Bebe and Clyde both blushed at his comment and the entire room fell into a shocked silence for a moment.

"Dude!" shouted Stan. "Stop saying shit like that!"

"Okay, maybe we should all just settle down," suggested Mr. Garrison, clearly being ignored by all of those involved.

"Excuse me, hippy!" shouted Cartman. "I can say whatever the hell I want, it's a free country!"

"Wow fatass, you actually said something with a small grain of truth," droned Craig. "I'm impressed."

"Craig, do you really have to escalate every bad situation?" asked Red, with a subtext of anger.

Craig casually flipped her off. "Sorry, I'm the most real one here."

Tempers were flaring across the class quickly and Mr. Garrison tried his best to quench the flames, to no avail.

"Now, class… please-"

"Stop saying that to him; you're being so mean!" shouted Stan to Cartman.

"I call it like I see it." said Craig to Red.

"Don't you dare talk about Bebe like that!" shouted Wendy to Cartman.

"I just don't want to hear you two at each other all the time!" pleaded Clyde to Kyle. "Is it too much to ask?"

"Okay, fellas, we should all settle down," pleaded Butters.

"Piss off and leave me with my first amendment rights, you hippies!" yelled Cartman to Wendy and Stan.

"Back off, you disrespectful, crooked-tooth, asshole!" hollered Red in response to Craig.

"Kevin, do you have to use all the damn scrap paper to make hundreds of origami swans?" cried Token.

The room devolved into chaos as all the students simultaneously began arguing. Mr. Garrison, having lost control of the situation just sat back and watched it unfold, amused by the interclassroom drama, which he absorbed like a sponge.

The ringing of the school bell pierced the classroom and the students all seized their arguments, feeling only a little relieved despite all the weight that was lifted off of their chests.

"I'll see you all tomorrow, class! Hopefully, we can actually get some work done next time…" Mr. Garrison trailed off, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all.

"Jeez," said Kyle to Bebe as they were packing up, "I've never seen that much pandemonium in one class period."

Bebe sighed. "That was completely absurd. I hope something like that never happens again."

Kyle smiled. "Don't worry, I'll try to stop my instigation next time…"

"Really?" asked Bebe sarcastically. Both of them laughed.

As the two of them walked away, Clyde and Heidi watched them from afar with melancholy. Clyde felt Bebe slipping away from him for good and Heidi was nearly certain that her feelings for Kyle were unrequited.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19: Setting (Yourself) Up For Success**

"Whew! That was a pretty rough practice, Clyde!" called Butters as the two of them walked through the front door of his house.

"I'll say!" responded Clyde. "I have no idea why the hell Garrison made us do a hundred pushups after we finished the hard workouts. I mean, our game is tomorrow!"

"Well, we got to get mentally tougher… If we play soft, we'll lose to Orange County for sure!"

"Yeah, but doing that was just torture! Seriously, he can be such an asshole sometimes…"

At that moment, the two of them were greeted by Mrs. Stotch herself.

"Hey Butters! How was your day at school?"

"It was pretty good, Mom!" he answered.

"That's good!" said Linda, turning over to her son's friend. "Hey Clyde! Are the two of you hanging out tonight?"

"Yes, ma'am," responded Clyde.

"Excellent! Now, Butters! Your father and I are going out to eat tonight. We'll stay late so I have some leftovers in the fridge for you to eat. There's enough for the two of you to share!"

"Thanks, Mom!" replied Butters.

"You're welcome! Now, I have to pick up your father, so I must be going now. Goodbye!"

"Bye, Mom!" called Butters.

She walked out the front door and Butters turned to Clyde.

"You ready to practice?"

"Yeah, let's do this."

They opened the door to the basement and descended the stairs. Waiting for them was a drum set and an electric guitar with an amp plugged in, ready for use.

"So, what song do you have in mind?" asked Butters.

"Got it right here. How does this look?" asked Clyde, with printed out sheet music he had pirated online.

"Oh hamburgers," said Butters. "If we want this to sound good, we better start rehearsing…"

* * *

"That was a really good rehearsal," remarked Clyde. "You're really getting the hang of my little number for Bebe."

"Thanks, Clyde!" responded Butters. "You're doing a great job learning my song too!"

Clyde smirked. "Damn straight. Who did you say it was for again?"

"Uh, you'll see on Saturday," replied Butters.

"Okay. Well, we should be good for Saturday; we probably don't need to rehearse together face to face again. If you want, we could FaceTime or something like that to practice."

"Sounds good! See you tomorrow!"

"You too!" called out Clyde as he shut the door.

Butters waved goodbye and went to his fridge. He opened the door to find leftover lasagna, which he carefully took out of its container and heated in the microwave. When it finished, he took it out of the microwave and began eating it. While partially occupied with his meal, he grabbed his phone out of his pocket and turned it on. There were several missed calls from Stan and Kyle.

Butters hastily called Stan back. He sat back in his chair, phone to his ear, eagerly awaiting for Stan to pick up. After four rings, the call went to voicemail so Butters hung up. He called Kyle instead. With each passing ring he grew more sure that Kyle wouldn't pick up. Thankfully, with little time before this call would also go to voicemail, a familiar voice was heard on the other end.

"Hey!" greeted Kyle.

"Hey there, Kyle!" answered Butters. "Why did you call?"

"Stan and I tried getting a hold of you because we need to make sure you're getting everything ready for Saturday. There won't be any time tomorrow due to our game."

"Oh, hamburgers!"

"Shit! Butters, you haven't done _anything_?"

"Gee, Kyle. I've been really busy so far. I completely forgot!"

"Damn it, Butters! We really got to get everything in gear! Do you have the essentials at your house?"

"Essentials?"

"You know. Like the stereo system, the mini-fridge, the hot tub, the video games, and the party games?"

"I mean, the hot tub's been ready for use so we're good there... I'll do my best to get everything else together…"

"Ok, just try to get it done tonight. Stan, Cartman, Kenny, and I will help you with last minute set-up on Saturday but there's only so much we can do then, so we need you to get as much done as you can now."

"Okay, I've got it. Thanks Kyle."

"You're welcome, Butters. I know it's been a tight timeline, so thank you so much for your flexibility about this whole thing. I'll see you tomorrow dude."

"See you tomorrow."

Butters hung up the phone and panicked. He knew he had to get going and fast. His parents would be home within a couple of hours and he needed to get as much done as he could. _I am so screwed,_ he thought. _I never should have gotten involved with all this. The party would be much better if it were held at Eric's or Token's house._

Running low on time with few options remaining, Butters had an epiphany. In a moment of clarity, he knew exactly what to do. He opened up his phone and scrolled up near the top of his contacts list and pressed the call button. By the second ring, someone picked up.

"Hello?"

"Annie, were you serious earlier when you said you could help me with the party?"

"Yeah, of course, Butters."

"Do you think you could please help me out right now? The fellas are really getting after me because I haven't set anything up yet."

A small pause. "Absolutely I will."

"Thanks so much, Annie!"

* * *

DING-DONG!

Butters ran to the door and opened it.

"Thanks for coming, Annie!"

"No problem, Butters! I had just finished up my homework for Garrison so I had nothing else to do! Now, what do you need help with?"

"Well, I need you to tell me what sort of stuff I should be setting up. I was given some ideas from the guys."

"What ideas did they have?"

"Kyle mentioned a stereo, setting up video games and party games, and getting a mini-fridge. He also wanted the hot tub up and running, but I already have that done."

"Okay, let's start with the stereo system," suggested Annie.

"Okay, I've got one in my basement… Let's go!"

Butters turned on the light and the two of them went down the staircase. When they reached the bottom, Butters wasted no time in searching for his dad's stereo. Annie was too preoccupied with something else to help though.

"Butters, is that your drum set? It's so cool!"

"Yeah, but I don't play it much anymore…"

Annie saw the instrument next to it. "Is this electric guitar yours as well?"

"Yeah. In fact, I still play it. If we weren't so pressed for time, I'd show you some cool stuff I've been working on."

She smiled. "That's so sweet, dude! Why do you have everything set up?"

Butters quickly thought of a lie, not wanting to ruin the surprise. "I thought… I'd learn a new song or two…"

She glanced at him, confused. "Then why are both instruments out?"

"I… uh… wanted to record two separate tracks and overlay them on each other. I've got to be efficient, I mean, I don't want to waste time putting them away."

"Damn, mixing tracks? That's impressive. Do you think you could send me a copy of the song when it's finished?"

"Uh… sure, why not? It… um… may take a while to finish though..."

"Sweet! Anyways, let's get to work on that stereo…"

They managed to find an aux cord as well as a set of speakers and hooked everything up. When they tested it, the entire basement rumbled with bass.

"I think that's rockin' enough for the party!" exclaimed Annie. "Do you have music picked out yet?"

"No, Kyle is working on that."

The two of them moved over to the flat screen television and set up a plethora of old game systems that the Stotches kept in storage.

"Yeah, let's get some of the really fun games out," said Butters. "We need Melee and Double Dash for the GameCube… perhaps Mario Party 2 for the N64…"

"Do you think we should connect some of the consoles to your TV in the living room as well?"

"That's a good idea. We probably should, but that might draw suspicion. I'll just set a reminder on my phone to connect them on Saturday after my parents leave."

He quickly did so and the two of them got back to connecting various sets of red, white, and yellow RCA connectors.

Annie smiled. "I have a feeling this is going to be the best party ever."

"You think so?" asked Butters. "I'm worried that everyone will think that it sucks. I don't want my party to be remembered like Craig's."

"Don't worry about it! As soon as we get everything set up, you'll see how great this is going to be!"

They hooked up the last of the RCA connectors.

"Alright, what next?" asked Annie.

"Well," responded Butters, "We have to get a mini-fridge somehow."

"Don't worry, I've got one. You can just borrow mine."

"Yippee! Problem solved!" cheered Butters, pumping his fist. "Thanks so much, Annie!"

Annie laughed. "You're welcome! I can get it to you on Saturday. What time would you want to get it?"

Butters thought for a moment. "Well, probably late afternoon after my parents are gone, so I don't get caught."

"Sounds good. What's the next item on our list?"

"Party games. Do you know any good ones?"

Annie thought hard. "Not off the top of my head, but I can talk with the girls tomorrow and get a good list going. If there's anyone who knows some great party games, it's definitely them."

"Okay, excellent. We'll get that straightened out and everything will be all set. Thanks so much for your help!"

"Awesome!" Annie replied. "I'm so excited for Saturday; I know it's going to be great!"

"Well," said Butters, twiddling his thumbs, "I hope so."

"C'mon! Have some self confidence! You have video games, a sweet stereo system, a hot tub, and a great crowd going to show up! It's going to be awesome!"

"Yeah," said Butters with a growing smile, "I guess you're right."

"Okay, well, I'll see you tomorrow, Butters," said Annie with a warm smile, heading for the door.

"Bye Annie! See you tomorrow!"

He closed the door and took a deep breath, relaxing. _At last,_ he thought. _Everything is going to be alright..._


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: **(Update as of 4/12/2020): A special message to the guest reviewer about Tweek and Craig: Don't jump to conclusions just yet! Consider the reliability of the characters and their quotations in that chapter. Perhaps there is some subtle foreshadowing in another one of the chapters. Be patient for there is and has been a story arc planned in the future that may pique your interest. I wanted to make this arc a surprise, but you've forced my hand. It won't be for awhile though, so, for now, enjoy this chapter if you are still reading.

* * *

**Chapter 20: Going Study**

"Wendy, I don't understand this question. What exactly is Mr. Phelps asking us to do here?"

"He just wants you to evaluate the limit of this difference quotient. Basically, just look to see where the 'h' terms will cancel when h approaches zero."

Stan looked back at his worksheet again, thinking it over. "Why is this relevant though? What sort of uses does the difference quotient have?"

"Well," said Wendy, "you can basically use it to find the slope of the graph at any point. It becomes the starting point for understanding differentiation. Eventually, we won't need this notation and we can evaluate it directly, but it helps show the intuition."

Stan, though still confused, started to understand. "I guess that makes sense. Jeez, you are so smart; how do you know all of this?"

"Well, I've worked ahead already. I want to make sure that I can comfortably get a 5 on the AP exam."

"Damn, Wendy. I wish I had that kind of work ethic."

"Trust me, Stan, you do. You just use it for things you're passionate about. I may be able to excel in math, but I could never play football like you do."

Stan smiled. "Thanks, Wendy."

Wendy smiled back. "You're welcome. It's nice doing homework with you."

"You too."

The two of them returned to their studies for some time. Wendy was in the middle of solving a physics problem when she got a text message on her phone. She paused to look at it, with a concerned look on her face. She turned to her boyfriend.

"Stan, I feel like we should talk about what happened in English today."

Stan looked up from his math problem. "What about it?"

"Something is changing right before our eyes."

"Well, what is it?"

"I just got this message from Heidi about Bebe. After reading it, I'm really worried about Clyde."

"Oh, shit. What is it?"

"She said that she noticed that there was some chemistry between Kyle and Bebe today. She's really concerned that Bebe is moving on too fast."

"Why would she care about that?"

"I don't know," responded Wendy. "But, I can't imagine the crap that happened in class today would be too good for Clyde. To top it off, if he noticed the same stuff that Heidi did, I would not want to be him right now."

Stan threw up his arms in frustration. "We tried everything we could to stop Cartman. We did everything! Can't he just not make those jokes? I know I enabled it before, but he just keeps making it worse! Fuck!"

Wendy patted Stan on the back in reassurance. "Don't blame yourself, Stan. We tried all we could today. You can't reason with people like Cartman."

Stan sighed. "It's not just Cartman though. Sure, he's the worst of it, but he's just echoing the sentiment of most of the guys in the group."

"Really?" asked Wendy. "But, what about Craig and Token and those guys? They're best friends with Clyde."

"They were. That is, until he spent all of his time with Bebe. Most of them won't say it publicly but they are pretty sore about that. That's why they never called out Cartman for his jokes and, sometimes, made a few of their own."

"I know he always spent a lot of time with Bebe, but that much? He cut his friends off completely?"

"Basically. I'm not sure if he really knew what he was doing. I mean, he didn't cut them off on purpose. He just started spending time with Bebe and eventually, they'd hang out together all the time."

Wendy was shocked. "Holy shit. That's intense stuff."

"Yeah, hopefully it will work its way down soon as the guys warm back up to him. But until then, he's got to deal with crap from Cartman, and, by extension, his other friends."

"That sucks so much for him. I thought it was bad before, but he's got so much on his plate."

Stan solemnly nodded. "I feel so bad about it. Do you think I should contact him right now?"

Wendy hesitated. "That's up to you."

"I'll shoot him a text."

He took out his phone and quickly tapped out a message to Clyde.

_Hey, dude. Sorry about Cartman today. Are you doing okay?_

In seconds, it was sent and Stan just sat, his hands folded on his lap, staring ahead, deep in thought.

Wendy saw the somber face of Stan and felt bad. "Stan, I didn't mean to kill the mood. Don't worry too much about it. There's only so much we can do and, at the end of the day, Clyde's got to fight this on his own. It doesn't do any good for either you nor him for you to be miserable."

Stan sighed softly, then smiled. "You're right, Wendy. Right now, I should just focus on the fact that I'm here with one of my favorite people."

"Aw, thanks, Stan." Wendy gave him a hug. "You're so sweet sometimes."

"Thanks Wendy. I don't deserve to have someone as great as you in my life."

"Don't say that! You absolutely do!" She looked at him and smirked. "If you don't keep your confidence up, then you won't be able to lead the team tomorrow and you know I wouldn't want that."

Stan laughed. "Oh, I promise that I'll lead them and I'll promise you one more thing. I'll win that game, just for you."

Wendy smiled. "Go, do it."

Stan nodded and smiled back. "Consider it done."

The two of them resumed their studies for a while. Stan had nearly finished his work when he realized that he had used up the last piece of scrap paper in his binder.

"Crap. Wendy, do you have a piece of notebook paper?"

"Stan, Stan, you've got to be prepared," she chastised, only half-serious. She opened her folder and handed him a piece.

"Thanks, babe."

"No problem."

Stan scribbled the last of his answers down onto the page and closed his textbook with an audible thud.

"Done! No more calculus homework for me!"

Wendy giggled. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah…"

"Did you forget about the worksheet?"

Stan's smile melted into a frown. "There's a worksheet? I don't remember him mentioning that in class today! Shit!"

Wendy tried her best to stifle her laughter. "Yeah, I guess you shouldn't have been planning the party in class again!"

Stan looked at her for a second, slowly deciphering her expression. "Very funny Wendy. Nice joke."

Wendy burst into laughter. "I can't believe you fell for it!"

"Yeah, yeah, have your fun…" said Stan, shaking his head, working hard to cover up the traces of a smile beginning to form. "You know I'm going to prank you back…"

"I'd like to see you try…" she replied, smiling.

"I guess you should wait and see then…"

"Maybe I will…"

"Yeah dude, you will…"

Wendy laughed again. "Seriously though, how is the planning coming along?"

"It's going alright," answered Stan, now moving onto his history homework. "Kyle and I messaged Butters earlier tonight to remind him to get ready. Right now, this is shaping up to be the greatest party of all time."

"Really?" Wendy asked sarcastically.

"Yeah, for real this time," Stan replied. "No hyperbole, no strings attached, no bullshit."

"Okay, so tell me this _grand_ plan of yours," Wendy requested facetiously.

Stan smirked. "Nope."

"Oh," said Wendy, "and why might that be?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

"Alright, fair enough. Are there any current drawbacks to the party as of yet?"

"Actually, yeah."

"Oh! Please tell me more."

"I accidentally let it slip to my parents that the party is happening. They called all the other parents and there's going to be a large group trying to hunt us down."

"That's a big don't right there."

"But!" interjected Stan. "They do not know the time nor date of the party, so everything will be safe."

"What if our parents find out more information? Surely, this whole ordeal can't be a complete secret forever…"

"Easy, we already have a preventative measure put in place. Everything will be just fine. Just make sure you don't slip any information and that no one else does either and we won't get found out."

"I wasn't planning on it," laughed Wendy. "But I'll tell the rest of the girls to keep it hushed as well."

"Excellent!"

Once more, they returned to their homework for a little while. Stan was the one who broke the silence this time.

"Hey, Wendy?"

"Yeah, Stan?"

"I don't say this enough, but with everything that's happened up to and throughout high school, I'm really glad that you were there right beside me every step of the way. It means more to me than you'll ever know."

Wendy blushed. "Stan, that might be the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me. I'm so glad to have shared that experience with you. You have supported me in tough times just as much as I have supported you and I'm really happy that you too have been beside me through my triumphs and struggles."

Stan smiled. "It feels so good to have moved past all that drama from the earlier times, the silly and petty breakups, the jealousy, and so forth."

Wendy nodded in agreement. "All that garbage such as the mass breakup, the start-up company nonsense, and the substitute teacher feel like a lifetime ago. The only thing that matters is that it all worked out in the end."

"I love you…"

"I love you too…"

The two were about to embrace when Stan's phone buzzed.

"What was that?"

Stan groaned. "Butters is trying to call me."

"Do you want to answer it?"

Stan tossed his phone several feet away. "Hell no, not right now."

Wendy smiled and the two wrapped their arms around each other, refusing to let go.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21: The Sting**

"Alright, let's get this special meeting underway!" cried Sheila Broflovski to an auditorium full of the senior parents.

The gathering quickly hushed and took their seats.

Sheila grinned. "We have an important development in the house party being held by our children this weekend! I found this scrap of paper lying by my son's backpack this afternoon."

She held it up triumphantly for all to see.

"What does it say?" asked Randy Marsh.

"It has the time and location of the party this weekend! According to the paper, after the football game tomorrow, our children will be heading to the Cartman residence!"

"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Liane Cartman. "I can't believe my little Eric would go behind my back like this! He always tells me ahead of time about these things!"

The congregation looked at her, incredulously.

Liane looked back at them, confused. "What?"

"Anyways," said Sheila, "We are going to nip this right in the bud. No longer is this a mission to resolve the matter beforehand without any consequences. If our children are going to willfully disobey us, we need to make a statement."

"Yeah!" shouted the crowd, getting riled up with every word that Sheila said.

Stephen Stotch stood up from his chair. "If my son, Butters, was involved in this in any way at all, he will be grounded for the rest of high school! And, I advise all of you parents to follow suit if you catch your children conspiring against you with these skylarkings!"

The crowd cheered loudly.

"Skylarkings?" asked Stuart McCormick softly.

"You know, like tomfooleries?" whispered his wife, Carol.

"Oh…"

"We need to set up a task force to stop all this nonsense in its tracks tomorrow!" Sheila yelled. "We'll not only need a group of us parents to organize and orchestrate this plan, but we'll also need some unassuming authority figures to help set up the sting. Thankfully, I have just the team! May I present the Association of Special Supervisors!"

Upon saying those words, the A.S.S. entered the auditorium, consisting of Officer Barbrady, Jimbo Kern, Ned Gerblanski, Principal Victoria, Mr. Mackey, Big Gay Al, Mr. Slave, and Mr. Garrison.

"Okay," said Mr. Garrison, "why are we all here?"

Sheila gasped. "Mr. Garrison! Didn't you read the email that I sent you?"

"Only the part that said there'd be refreshments here and I can't resist free food." Mr. Garrison scanned the auditorium. "Damn! Did everyone finish it already?"

Principal Victoria frowned and turned to her employee. "Contain yourself Garrison! You're making an ass out of yourself!"

Sheila glared at Mr. Garrison and the rest of the A.S.S. "The reason I have called you together is to stop our children from throwing a party tomorrow."

"A party? What's so bad about that?" asked Mr. Garrison. "Hell, I had my fair share of benders when I was in high school. It's a natural part of growing up."

Principal Victoria and Mr. Mackey groaned while Sheila bubbled with rage.

"Getting wasted and engaging in debauchery is NOT a natural part of growing up!" yelled Sheila. "We need to protect our children from this kind of stuff!"

"For Christ's sake, Sheila!" exclaimed Mr. Garrison. "They're young, they're experimenting with stuff, and they're on the cusp of adulthood! You need to let them grow up and make their own decisions."

"From what experience do you know that, Herbert?" cried an angry Linda Stotch. "Last time I checked, you don't have any children!"

Mr. Garrison huffed. "Last time I checked, I'm sexually attracted to men! Even when I was a woman, the surgery wouldn't let me get pregnant! So tell me, how in the fuck am I supposed to have children, Linda?"

The parents in the audience were taken aback by Mr. Garrison's overt abrasiveness and a silence held over the room.

Trying to ease tensions and unite the crowd again, Sheila tried an alternative method to win over Garrison. "You know, Mr. Garrison, your football team is looking awfully good this year..."

"Of course," boasted Garrison, "best damn team in the land. We're going to be contending for the state title."

"So," said Sheila, seeing that she had found the right strategy, "you need the team to focus in so you can win the playoff, right?"

"Yeah, they need to be focused every practice and dialed in every game. That's the only way to become a champion."

"But," interjected Sheila, "this party is a clear obstacle to that. If your players get involved with it, they won't be in any state to practice to the best of their ability on Saturday afternoon."

"Shit! You're right! They need to save that crap until after the season!"

Mr. Garrison started to heat up as thoughts of his team being too distracted to practice made him sick to his stomach. Sheila knew that the tide had shifted for good.

"So, are you in or not?"

Garrison fumed. "Absolutely! I'll institute a new team rule tomorrow that anyone who gets caught partying during the season won't start the next game!"

Sheila smirked. "Excellent, Mr. Garrison."

She then turned her attention to the rest of those gathered. "We all need to work together and do our part! Let's go over your assignments for tomorrow."

In the audience, Randy leaned over to Sharon. "Do we really need to militarize this? It's just a damn party for crying out loud…"

Sharon frowned. "You know as much as I do the harmful effects of excessive partying! That's what got you into drinking and made you develop alcoholism."

"That wasn't it at all! Plus, I'm not an alcoholic anymore, Sharon!"

"Randy, you drink excessively nearly every day!"

"What I do is tasteful and artistic, Sharon! I try different drinks and review them for my YouTube channel!"

Sharon Marsh rolled her eyes. There was no use arguing with Randy when he got into one of his fads.

Back at the front, Sheila started handing out positions to the different adults.

"Okay, Mr. and Mrs. Testaburger, you two are going to be assigned to street watch. You will park at a discrete location on East Bonanza Street and take notice of any and all cars that park near the Cartman residence."

"You can count on us!" exclaimed the two of them.

Sheila smiled. "Excellent! Now, Skeeter! You can just man your bar tomorrow night. Just crack down on checking IDs harder than usual and make sure no one carries out any liquor."

"You got it."

"Good. Stephen and Linda! Why don't you two work at the command center tomorrow night?"

Garrison's mouth fell to the floor. "What the hell?" he exclaimed to Principal Victoria. "There's a command center?"

Principal Victoria rolled her eyes. "It was in the email, Garrison. Just read it next time before you get involved in something serious like this."

Garrison was still shocked. "But where would they have something like that? How are they setting this up?"

Principal Victoria motioned for Garrison to get close and whispered in his ear. "Why do you think they invited Officer Barbrady? They just want to use his office in the police station."

"Wow, that makes much more sense than why I thought they invited him."

Principal Victoria looked at him, puzzled. "And, what could that be?"

Garrison laughed. "Oh, I thought he was going to shoot some minorit- I mean, nothing…"

Principal Victoria gasped. "Mr. Garrison!"

"What? I said 'nothing!'"

Back at the podium, the Stotches were trying to negotiate their terms with Sheila.

"We have to get up real early Saturday morning, so we were wondering if we could take the earlier shift at the control center."

Sheila nodded. "Oh yeah, that's fine. You got something special planned Saturday morning?"

Linda smiled and rubbed her husband's shoulder. "Yeah, Sheila. Stephen and I are going on a nice, little romantic getaway this weekend. It was kind of a last second thing."

Sheila smiled back. "That's great! Well, have fun you two! I think Gerald and I will take the late night shift afterwards so you're all set!"

"Thanks so much!" exclaimed Stephen.

Stephen and Linda hustled back to their seats as Sheila continued assigning roles to each of the parents in the auditorium, checking each of them off a large list. Eventually, she was at the very end of the list.

"Awesome, Mrs. Cartman! Okay, last but not least, Sharon and Randy, come on up."

Sharon stood up and Randy begrudgingly followed her. Randy received a knowing look from his friend Gerald as he walked on up.

"We sure got dragged into this one…" Randy whispered to him.

Gerald gave a solemn nod. "Damn right."

"I have saved the best assignment for you two," said Sheila. "I want you to be the leaders of the Association of Special Supervisors!"

"Woah!" exclaimed Sharon. "What are our duties within those roles?"

"Basically, you two are going to lead the stealth sting mission we have planned. You'll communicate and lead the team as you try to hunt down any of our kids who may be… getting into some mischief."

"Like secret agents?" asked Randy, excitedly.

Sheila was caught off guard. "Um… sure, Randy."

"Sweet… do we get to use guns?" he asked, making James Bond poses with an imaginary gun in his hand.

Sharon swatted Randy in the arm, angrily. "Randy!"

"Of course not!" shouted Sheila. "We aren't trying to hurt our children!"

Sharon fumed. "Why on Earth would you ask an asinine question like that, Randy?"

Mr. Garrison interjected. "Well, if Officer Barbrady isn't going to shoot those delinquents, someone needs to."

Principal Victoria pulled Mr. Garrison aside. "If you don't want to tarnish your reputation any further than you already have, I advise you to shut up right now."

"Come on!" Mr. Garrison groaned. "We were all thinking it!"

"Anyways," said Sheila, "you two will be given your own set of special equipment, including walkie-talkies and night vision goggles."

"Sweet!" exclaimed Randy.

Sharon was a bit more hesitant. "Jeez, Sheila. Isn't this a bit excessive?"

"Well, we do want to stop them Sharon and this is an effective method," said Sheila, checking off the Marshes on her assignment roster. "Sometimes, you have to pay the price to get what you want. We'll only know through hindsight if this was worth it or not."

Sharon and Randy went back to their seats and Sheila took to the podium once more.

"Now that everyone has their role for tomorrow night, I want to make one thing very clear. This is not a matter of if our children get caught. It is a matter of when. Tomorrow we have an incredible task in front of us, and it all starts with the football game. Can I count on your team to win tomorrow, Garrison?"

"Oh, hell yeah!"

"As long as you win, we got ourselves a party to crash…"

The crowd cheered as a smile grew on Sheila's face.


End file.
